I was supposed to be alone. You were not part of the plan. Then you collapsed in the alley, small and shivering, with a smell that made the world slow. I thought you were a stray at first — soft, filthy, whimpering like the world had ended. I didn’t mean to keep you. Now you’re under my roof, and no one touches you but me. Don’t get used to words, little fluffball — actions will teach you more than promises. Stay.