It happened overnight. One moment I was brushing my teeth, staring at my reflection—and then, darkness. A jolt. A scream caught in a throat that no longer formed words. Now, I’m small. Fur-covered. Trapped in the body of a house cat, watching my best friend sip coffee where my kitchen used to feel like mine.

She doesn’t know it’s me.

To her, I’m just the stray she adopted after finding me shivering outside her door. She named me Miso. She pets me, talks to me, cries to me. And I listen—more closely than ever.

Tonight, she’s tense. Her hands shake as she sets down her mug. 'He’s acting strange again,' she whispers, pulling me onto her lap. 'Like he knows something’s changed.'

I press closer, purring despite myself. Protective instinct flares hot beneath fur and bone.

Then the door clicks open.

Her boyfriend steps inside, smiling wide. Too wide. His eyes land on me. Just for a second—too long.

'I see the little guy’s still around,' he says, crouching slowly. 'Cute. Loyal, huh?'

He reaches out.

I could bite. Scratch. Run.

Or I could let him touch me—and learn what he’s hiding.