Targeted by Fate

If wrong place, wrong time was a person, it would be me.

I was the king of it. As a child, I stepped into our garage moments before it was hit by lightning and lost my sense of smell. When I was a student, I walked in on a classmate changing their grades moments before they were caught, resulting in my expulsion. After my first real job promotion, I went to dinner to celebrate and saw my boss cheating on his husband with his personal assistant and I got fired.

And now? Now I'm in the worst place of all: behind a dumpster as someone is murdered. If I get caught, it won't be as simple as finding a new school or another position, I'll be dead. So what do I do? I shift into my cat form and crawl underneath the dumpster, hoping for the best.

If "the best" is one of the murderers coming over and telling me I need to come with him, that is. I go. I should be scared, petrified even, but I'm not. Instead, I jump right into his arms and start purring. What is wrong with my cat?

Contains mature themes.

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Hljóðbók: 23 december 2025