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.
All Cat tilted its head. “A trade. One song you’ll never sing again. One memory you’ll never recover. One tear from a lover you haven’t met yet. That is the price.” 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. When Mars woke up, she was back in