Wick had a rule. An unspoken, but deeply enforced law: Only two furry siblings at a time.

He already had Tigger—his first recruit. An orange tabby with easy energy and a heart as warm as his fur. He’d been part of the family for six months when the second seat at Wick’s inner circle was unexpectedly filled.

Her name was Jinx.

She didn’t arrive in the middle of a blizzard or with dramatic flair. She came in the heat of summer—quiet, thin, and cautious. A grey tabby with stripes like soft shadows and the kind of eyes that told you she'd already survived more than most.

Timmie and I started seeing her in the neighborhood. Always at a distance. Always alone. She’d appear between fence posts, sitting still in the tall grass, or moving like mist across a sidewalk. Never meowing. Never asking. Just… present.

Then one afternoon, we stepped outside to go grab dinner.