Dear Diary,
Tonight I burst through the flats front door, breathless, and froze when I saw Natalie huddled on the hallway sofa, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Are you home, Nat? I asked, but she could barely get the words out. Milo hes gone, she managed, voice cracking. Hes not in the flat.
My heart lurched. How could he disappear? I demanded. Where could he have gone? Did he hide somewhere in the flat? I tried to keep a calm tone, though panic prickled at my nerves.
Natalie wiped her eyes and explained. Your sister, Victoria she said Milo bolted into the stairwell when she and Michael stepped out for a walk. But you know Milohed never bolt out the front door on his own. Hed never go out in that bitter cold and nearly freeze. I think she let him out on purpose.
What?! I slammed my fists together, the sting of anger rising. Where is she now? Wheres Victoria?
She said shed gone to the shop I dont know. Ive been looking for Milo all evening, but hes nowhere. No ones seen him. How could someone do something so cruelthrow a defenseless animal out into the street in winter? Is that even human?
People can be monsters, but Victoria shes done similar things before. Dont worry, she wont be in our flat any longer. Honestly, why did we ever let her stay?
A month earlier
I was heading toward the bus stop when something grey caught my eye beneath a thin layer of snow. At first I thought it was just a stone, but it shivered like an ancient refrigerator. That was odd; stones dont tremble with the cold. Curiosity got the better of me, so I stepped off the pavement and knelt down.
It wasnt a stone at all but a tiny grey kitten, trembling on the frosted ground.
What a surprise, I muttered, scratching my head. What are you doing here, little one? Of course, it was a rhetorical questionanyone can see that stray animals are just trying to survive, no matter how cold.
The kitten didnt mew or beg; it simply lay there, shivering, resigned to the worlds indifference. I gently lifted it, brushed the snow from its fur, and slipped it under my coat. I hurried back to the bus, heart thudding.
I remembered how Natalie had always wanted a grey, tabby kitten but we never found the time to visit a shelter together. Fate, it seemed, had dropped one at our feet. When I slipped the kitten out of my coat, I thought, If destiny gives you something, you take it.
Back home I announced, Nat, Ive got a surprise for you.
Her face lit up, though she teased, Youve been spoiling me latelygold earrings, a new phone, cinema ticketswhat now? A skiholiday voucher?
I grinned, unzipped my jacket, and held up the kitten. Look what I found outside. Grey and striped, just what you wanted, right?
Natalie gasped, Hes freezing, poor thing! Lets get him inside, warm him up. You go wash your hands, Ill finish dinner.
She cradled the kitten, cooing, Hes beautiful. We debated names, discarding a laundry list until we settled on the classic Milo, which felt just rightmore fitting than Tom or Lucas.
It was late November, the first snow of the season, so Milo hadnt yet learned the perils of a British winter. Thank heavens, because for many pets, that first frost can be fatal.
In the two weeks Milo lived with us, Natalie and I grew attached to him instantly; each day deepened our affection. Milo, too, seemed to adore ushe never got scolded for toppling a remote off the dresser, only gently reminded to be more careful. Hed often leap onto the nightstand, mewing, Ill be careful, I promise!
Life was good, that is, until a knock sounded at the door one sleepy Sunday morning.
What could possibly be at the door at half past six? I whispered, rubbing sleep from my eyes. It was still dark outside.
Maybe the neighbours? Natalie suggested, frowning.
I opened the door to find Victoria standing there with her fiveyearold son, Jamie. She carried a battered suitcase.
Hey, brother, she smiled brightly. Were dropping by. Mind if we come in?
I hesitatedher sudden appearance with luggage was odd. Whats happening, Vic?
She sighed, My husband threw me out. Hes got a new partner, can you believe it? Ive got nowhere to go, so I thought Id stay with you for a while. Maybe stay until I sort out a flat. And we could celebrate New Years together, since weve barely spoken in years.
I remembered why wed drifted apart: lies erode any solid relationship. I tried to stay calm, but the memory of our fathers death five years ago resurfaced. Hed left a threebedroom flat that was to be split between us, yet Id already given up my share for Victorias sake when she was pregnant and needed a roof.
My mother had encouraged me to relinquish my claim, saying, Your niece will need a place. At the time I was living in a student hall, so I obliged, thinking I could eventually buy a home with a mortgagejust as everyone does now.
When Victoria later sold the flat after Jamie was born, she moved in with a new boyfriend, Val, who needed cash for his business. She told me, The flat was mine, so I did what I had to. I argued, but she never sent any money my way; it all went to business development.
Our mother stayed out of it, saying adults would sort it out. Ten years ago, Id found a stray kitten on the street, took it home, and it vanished. I never suspected Victoria, but now the pattern seemed clear. Id confronted her then, demanding she tell me where shed hidden it, but shed lied through her teeth.
Now, with Milo safely back in our home, Victoria started complaining about him. She claimed he kept her awake, lounged on her sofa, stared at her oddly. Then Jamie developed a nasty cold.
This is definitely an allergy to your cat, she told me, comparing Jamie to a cucumber when he was healthy.
It could just be a cold, I retorted. You take him for walks, after all. Even if it is an allergy, Milo is part of our family.
She mocked me, Family member? You still bring home stray animals as if youre a wildlife rescuer. How does Natalie put up with you?
I tried to stay composed. The subject of children was a raw nerve for both of us; wed been trying for years without success, doctors offering no answers. Victoria knew that, and it seemed she was using it to justify her behavior.
Eventually I told her, Take Milo to a shelter. Hes yours, not mine. My nephew is my responsibility, and I wont let a cat ruin our lives.
She shouted, What are you talking about? Im not leaving! I snapped back, If you dont like him, youre welcome to leave. I wont call you again.
For a while she seemed to back down, but she kept moving Milo from the sofa to the far corner, then accidentally knocked her phone off the nightstand, tore at her favourite sweater, and even snatched his soft toy, hiding it in her suitcase.
I finally lost patience. Listen, sisterthis is my flat. If you want to stay, stay away from my cat.
She muttered an apologetic, Alright, alright, I wont cause trouble.
On New Years Eve, Natalie kept crying on the phone, something serious weighing on her. I left work early and rushed home. The clock was ticking toward midnight, the champagne still unopened, the table set but our hearts heavy because Milo was still missing.
Just as the house fell silent, a frantic voice called, Natalie, someones at the door! I stumbled to the entryway, halfexpecting Victoria, but instead I found Milo, shivering, his tiny body covered in frost. Hed somehow survived the night and found his way back.
Nat! Hes back! I shouted, scooping Milo into my arms. We wrapped him in blankets, fed him warm milk, and Natalie clung to him, never letting go.
He purred contentedly, as if saying, I made it home. The moment felt like a miracle, a tiny beacon of hope as the clock struck twelve. I popped the champagne, poured the fizz into glasses, and watched the fireworks light up the sky.
They say the way you welcome the New Year is the way it will go. For us, it began with a lost cat returned, a family reunited, and the quiet promise of new life blossoming in Natalies heart as she held Milo close.
So heres to Milo, to family, and to the strange twists of fate that bring us back where we belong.
