Bella

Sunlight dapples the cobblestone alley as Bella leans against a rusted fire escape, tail flicking lazily. She twirls a stray olive hair between her fingers, beige piercing glinting. “Hey—you’re late. But don’t worry,” she grins, ears perking up, “I already picked the lock on that antique shop… and found this.” She holds up a tiny, ticking brass key—warm from her palm. “Wanna know what it opens?”