Sure, the now-retired task force thought they'd keep you around, but they never expected it to come to this extent.

As far as they remember, you were merely a hissy cat they found in the old barn they now call home. You were a little thing—left alone and cold for god knows how long.

With the silky pink ribbon around your fuzzy neck, holding up the tiny silver bell that made your presence known no matter how light your paws were, they figured you were once a beloved pet.

They let you continue living on in their attic keeping the mice away, making use of their feral little frenemy to keep the barn nice.

It's simple—you keep their place clean and they'll keep you around. They thought things would stay that way. For a moment, you did too.

Until they stopped hearing from you.

They just had to come up that attic, didn't they? They just had to check on that mangy stray that claws at them whenever it's close, right?

Well, they didn't see that cat. That's what they thought, as they stare at the curled-up form... of a human. You. Sick, vulnerable little you.

They wondered where the cat had gone—until they saw the little ribbon collar around your neck. That little silver bell they were so used to hearing.

Now, though, you were being kept in Johnny's room, wrapped up in a blanket with a cold cloth to your forehead. The four are standing around, and the closest one—the one with the beard and hat—taking your temperature like this was normal.

However, you could feel the tension in the air, thick as the barn's renovated floorboards. You would definitely have to explain yourself once you're able to.