Cannoli lounged on a blanket beneath a clear blue sky, hugging the shade of her umbrella while she sipped on fresh lemonade. The day was comfortably warm, and the sun felt wonderful on her ears and tail. Keke and Elona sat on the dock, lines cast far into the ocean. Every so often, Keke would take a break and swim with Cannoli before returning to her favored pastime. Everything was perfect. Save for the one tiny voice nagging at the back of her mind.

Aurora, her mother, hadn’t come home in a week.

The sudden disappearances had begun six months before. When the snow touched Ni Island’s highest peaks, and Cannoli and Keke found pleasure in crunching through thin, ice-covered puddles together. At first, Aurora would leave for just a day or two with a kiss on Cannoli’s cheek and a reminder to practice her manners and prayers. Sometimes she would bring Cannoli to Elona’s house and promise she’d return the next day. Other times, there wasn’t a warning at all. Three months later, Aurora would leave for three or four days at a time. Now, as Cannoli watched Keke giggle with Elona, she realized this was the longest she’d gone without seeing her mother.

This wasn’t like her. In Cannoli’s thirteen years, she could never remember a time when she woke up to Aurora missing without a note or a word. She’d noted Elona’s concerned frown each time Aurora asked her to watch Cannoli. Something was wrong.

She pulled a long strand of damp hair over her shoulder and began to plait it in thought. Cannoli loved her mother. More than anything in the world. She trusted Aurora with her secrets and prayed with her twice a day. Had Cannoli done something wrong to make her want to leave? Would there be a day when Aurora left and never came back?

Heavy tears escaped the corner of her eyes, and she sniffed. That can’t be, can it?

“Cannoli? What’s wrong?” Keke’s golden eyes appeared above her, staring intently down from her tanned face.

Cannoli shook her head and forced a smile. “Nothing! I’m fine!”

Elona appeared behind Keke, setting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Cannoli, honey, we can head back home if you’d like. No reason to stay if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

“N-no! I’m perfectly fine!” Her words broke against a tight sob in her chest. No. I musn’t make them worry. “Really, I’m fine,” she whimpered, hiding her face behind her hands. I’m an adult now! I shouldn’t be crying!

“What’s on your mind? You can tell us,” Keke gently urged, taking a seat next to her.

“I-I— I just—” Cannoli hiccuped, shame overtaking her sadness. “I miss my mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Elona knelt and swept Cannoli into a warm embrace. “I know. This is… temporary. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Where… where is she?” she squeaked.

“Aurora’s safe. She’s just on important business from Nyarlothep,” Elona murmured into her hair.

Keke’s eyes widened. “From the queen herself?”

“Yes.” Elona stroked Cannoli’s hair. “It’s gone on longer than we thought it would, is all.”

“So, then, I didn’t do anything wrong?” Cannoli asked, unable to meet Elona’s gaze.

“No, sweet. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Elona drew Cannoli to arm’s length, wiping the stray tears away with her thumb. “She still cares about you very much.”

Cannoli wiped her nose on the back of her wrist. A burst of sound between a chuckle and a sigh interrupted her crying as she looked between Keke and Elona. “I must seem silly.”

“You’re only silly because you broke two fishing poles,” Keke teased gently. “Your mom’s working for the queen! That’s a huge honor for a catgirl!” She snatched Cannoli’s big toe and wiggled it. “That’s what I want to do!”

Cannoli squeaked in surprise, then smiled weakly. “Maybe I’ll be with you. We can both meet the queen.”

“Of course you will. Who else will heal me? Granny Nauka?” Keke shifted, hugging her legs to her chest and rocking backward.

“I don’t think so,” Cannoli giggled. Sniffing away her remaining tears, she wiped her eyes against her palms and took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“You can always talk to Keke or me, Cannoli. Try not to bottle your feelings so much.” Elona touched the tip of Cannoli’s nose. “We’re here to listen.”

Cannoli nodded, then her stomach grumbled. Her blush returned, and she glanced at the picnic basket. “Should we have lunch?”

Keke’s ears perked, and her tail whipped back and forth. She grinned, and her excited gaze locked onto the basket. “Ryba sandwiches! We haven’t caught a single one today!”

“Then you’d better savor it while you can,” Elona replied, pointedly grabbing the basket before Keke could get her claws on it. “One at a time. Have patience.”

Keke bounced with impatience, then looked at Cannoli and took her hand. “It’ll be okay, Cannoli. You’ll see.”

Cannoli squeezed Keke’s hand in hers. “Thank you, Keke.”

A light sunburn and a slew of nightmares had Cannoli tossing and turning from the moment her head hit the pillow. Defiled invading Junonia, razing it to ash. Sometimes Aurora was there to save her just before being devoured. In other versions of the dream, Cannoli’s mother was nowhere to be found. In one particularly terrifying dream, Cannoli was the one swept up by the Defiled while the rest of the town watched and cheered.

The sting of her shoulders dragged her back to reality from an Encroacher’s grip. Elona had smeared a balm of fresh-smelling herbs and plants over her skin that had cooled it enough to help her fall asleep, but it seemed it had worn off. Cannoli slipped from Keke’s bed and shivered as a cool breeze from the open window caressed her shoulders. Elona had left the healing salve in a wooden bowl in Keke’s room, just in case Cannoli needed more during the night.

Cannoli dipped two fingers into the bowl, then smeared a thin layer over her left shoulder. The relief was immediate, quelling the sharp sting and providing a layer of protection between her skin and her nightgown.

A low murmur of voices caught her ear from outside of Keke’s doorway. A quick glance out the window showed a high moon and a shimmering sky of stars. It was late. Who was still up at this hour?

Carefully inching the door open, Cannoli slipped past the threshold and tip-toed down the dark, narrow hallway. A single candle illuminated the common room, the glow just barely touching the edges of her path. She crouched low and relied on the wall to guide her.

“—keep doing this,” Elona hissed. The icy tone of her voice gripped Cannoli’s heart, and she had to cover her mouth. She could count how many times she’d heard Keke’s mother sound like that on one hand.

“You don’t understand. This goes beyond Saoirse’s teachings.”

Mom! Cannoli edged as close to the light’s circle as she dared. She could make out the silhouette of Aurora, standing an arm’s length away from Elona. Her face was wrought with emotion, and her hands were clasped at her chest. Elona’s back was toward Cannoli, her arms crossed over her chest, and her tail moved with agitated flicks.

“It’s one thing to have feelings for Ni Island’s man, but this…” Elona shook her head. “Aurora, this is beyond dangerous.”

“Shi Island is fine without him. No one knows he’s here. Even the woman who ferried him perished in battle.” Aurora took a small step forward. “Please, Elona. You must understand. I know you felt similarly for—”

“How dare you to assume such a thing?” Elona stepped back, forcing Cannoli farther back into the darkness lest they see her. “I would never put my kitten at risk, regardless of my emotions. Can you say the same?”

Aurora fretted at her lower lip, pink eyes glittering with tears. “Cannoli is old enough to take care of herself now. She will be just fine—”

“She needs you, Aurora,” Elona hissed. “She’s still a child.” The way her fists balled at her hips made Cannoli’s stomach churn.

“You underestimate her,” Aurora replied, her ears lowering to her head. “Many of us chose our Class at thirteen.”

“Maybe if you spent more time with your daughter instead of your ill-begotten lover, you would have the sense to agree.”

I don’t understand…

It wasn’t a secret. Every kitten wondered about love. Some mothers would use the term freely, while others kept it closely guarded—a word reserved for Saoirse’s care of Nyarlea. Aurora was one of the latter, saving it for prayer and correcting Cannoli if she tried to use the expression outside her faith.

“Elona, I thought… I hoped that you, of all people, would sympathize with my situation,” Aurora said. Her gaze slid to the floor alongside her tears. “My heart is no longer my own.”

“Did you forget where they take catgirls who fall in love?” Elona snarled.

“No. I did not.”

“And is this the kind of precedent you want to set for Cannoli?”

There was a long silence. Cannoli dared not breathe as she watched. At last, Aurora replied, “I pray that she never feels this way. Especially if there is no one for her to rely on if she dares.”

“Aurora—”

“I’ll return for Cannoli tomorrow. Please have her things packed.” She raised her chin, all signs of distress covered by a newfound determination.

Pride, Cannoli thought. She says we should always be proud.

“Aurora!” Elona snarled. But Cannoli’s mother was already closing the door behind her. Elona leaned her forehead against the polished wood and breathed a quick succession of sighs. “Dammit, Aurora.”

Cannoli took the opportunity to pad her way back to Keke’s room, a whirlwind of emotions tightening her chest.

This was a bottle that she wasn’t sure she could ever open again.

To anyone.