Searching For- Lily Labeau Rion King In-all Cat... -

But on the floor, curled asleep, was a small black kitten with one green eye and one gold. It purred in a minor key.

The photograph showed three figures: Lily Labeau, the blues singer who vanished in ’97; Rion King, the enigmatic pianist who followed her everywhere like a shadow with a gold tooth; and between them, a creature they called “All Cat.” All Cat wasn’t a pet. In the grainy image, the beast was as large as a Labrador, with tufted ears that bent like question marks and eyes that held the exact shade of a swamp at midnight. All Cat was a rumor, a myth, a living gris-gris charm that could find anything lost—including a voice. Searching for- lily labeau rion king in-All Cat...

When Mars woke up, she was back in her apartment, the photograph on her nightstand now blank except for the outline of a cat stretching in a moonbeam. She opened her mouth to sing—and found she had forgotten every note of the lullaby. She tried to recall her grandmother’s face—and saw only a blur. A future phone never rang. But on the floor, curled asleep, was a

Gutter pointed a gnarled finger at the cat in the photograph. “All Cat don’t like humans. But it loves three things: raw shrimp, a lullaby sung in a minor key, and the scent of a person who’s truly alone. You got any of those?” In the grainy image, the beast was as

Mars thought of her grandmother’s voice, already fading. She thought of the future she might never hold. And then she nodded.

“Then give them back,” Mars whispered.