The Cat That Knew

Margot stood on the balcony of her thirty-fourth floor apartment, watching the lightning carve the sky into jagged pieces. Three years since Thomas died, and still the storms undid her.

A cat wound around her ankles—Thomas's cat, a ragged thing named Pyramid because of the strange triangular marking on his forehead. The animal had refused to eat after the funeral, wasting away until Margot herself began wasting away too.

She'd been the one to discover it all: the emails, the offshore accounts, the desperate messages from people who'd lost everything. Thomas's green energy startup wasn't just failing. It was something worse—a pyramid scheme built on promises and carbon credits that never existed.

The worst part wasn't the money. It was the betrayal. Thomas had looked her in the eye every morning over coffee, knowing he was sinking them both.

Pyramid meowed, insistent. Margot picked him up, his purr rumbling against her chest. In the weeks after everything collapsed, when reporters camped on her doorstep and lawyers called hourly, this cat had been her only company.

Another flash of lightning, closer now. The storm was moving in.

She'd sold everything—the penthouse, the stocks, even her wedding ring. Moved to this smaller place, started over at forty-two. Sometimes she wondered if Thomas had planned it that way. If he'd known she'd survive, but he couldn't face what he'd done.

Pyramid struggled in her arms. Margot set him down and watched him pad to the railing, where he sat perfectly still, staring out at the city.

"You miss him too, don't you?" she whispered.

The cat turned, green eyes flashing like lightning in the dark. And for the first time in three years, Margot found herself wondering not about the lies, but about the man who'd once rescued this starving kitten from a construction site, who'd held her while she cried over nothing, who'd made her laugh until her ribs ached.

Maybe she'd never know which version of Thomas was real. Maybe that was the point.

She stepped back inside, closing the sliding door against the wind. Pyramid followed, winding around her legs again. Outside, the rain began to fall, washing the city clean.