It seems I spoke too soon. She’s back—coming in the way she left, shrouded. In the upper rooms, from which I am excluded, silence prevails. No more wailing, no ceaseless footsteps. Why all the secrecy? They bring her food in little china dishes—special food, no doubt—food that the rest of us don’t get to try. I listen at the door when my Humans aren’t looking, but I can’t hear a thing. Even he listens. I’ve seen him sneaking up the stairs and putting his ear to the door. But no. There’s no getting in, not even for him. Our toys are in there. And my special bath soap and towel. My ducky! This is just too much! I used to snuggle close to my Humans under the covers at night, so cozy warm. Now I sleep alone in my blankie, shivering. Come to think of it, what happened to that hand-knit sweater I was promised?