I remember that day vividly.
It was pouring rain, and Dad had been called away by his colleagues at the police station. My stepmother had gone out to pick up Matthew from his tutoring session, leaving just Halle and me alone at home.
When I went to feed the cat, I saw Halle looking toward the cat's bed with a smile that was both smug and unsettling.
My kitten suffered for a few minutes before its body went limp and lifeless. I was sure Halle was responsible.
I tried to confront her, but Matthew, back from his tutoring, ended up snapping at me, "What does Halle have to do with the cat's death? Stop making a scene!"
At that moment, Halle's gaze was just as smug and satisfied as she was now.
