There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

When I was very young, maybe three, I woke up from a nap in an empty
apartment. It might have been the silence that woke me. I slipped off my little
mattress and wandered through the apartment, which didn’t belong to us, but
where I’d been staying with my mother for several weeks. I navigated the
empty bottles and trash scattered everywhere, afraid to call out and break the
eerie silence.
I found the front door, which stood partially open.
I wandered out into the hall, and then down the stairs, never seeing another
person.
When I came out onto the sidewalk, a large calico cat sat waiting on the
steps, gazing at me with unblinking eyes. Being three, I was certain the cat
waited for me. It jumped down off the step and began strolling around the
corner. I followed after it.
Eventually, it settled down in the tulip bed of the back garden, stretching out
in the sunshine. I climbed up onto the warm dirt and lay with the cat, my
head against its body. We both drifted off with the gentle buzz of bees all
around us.
Later, an old woman found me. She took me up to her apartment and fed me
coconut cake. I had never eaten coconut before.
That was a memory I returned to in times of stress or pain. I believed the cat
was there to take care of me. I believed it for years.
But I don’t tell any of that to Gemma.
“Even that one’s lonely,” Gemma says, tilting her head to the side as she
examines The Nap. “The dark color palette … the smallness of the child next
to the cat …”
It’s true. The cat is oversized, a calico tiger, larger than the girl herself, who
almost disappears amongst the jumbled stems of tulips.
“The girl’s always alone,” Gemma persists. “Where’s her parents?”
“I have no idea,” I say before I can think better of it. “Excuse me—I’ve got
other people I need to speak to.”