Page 152 - THE ATTACK ON THE FERRISWHEEL- 200 PAGES FREE OFFER

to trust.

"He told me he had taken the mother of little Mew away from someone who had
mistreated her." But she could see that the cats were doing well, even though

Jano seemed very mysterious. They love when Ann tells her stories, maybe it's

because of her slightly hoarse voice, or maybe it's because she's been
experiencing so much, so they kind of live through her.

“I’ll have to go up and go to bed now. Mew can't handle anymore. Isn’t that right,

little Mew? ”
She tugs the hoodie closer to the kitten. Once again she is centre of attention, and

will be for some time in the courtyard, and in school of course; that was all part
of her plan.

As soon as she enters the hallway, and the door closes behind her, she takes off

her shoes and puts them in the hallway, even though Mom hates it. As long as
Ann doesn't agree with them being washed in the washing machine, they should

be in her own room. They smell awful, she knows, but she doesn't want them to

lose any colour, having them turn pink instead of red.
She's trying to get the cat to defecate in the litter box,

"Come on, Mew!"
But the kitten twists and turns in her hands, fleeing the scene, and eventually she

gives up. Instead, she enters her room, where she jumps on the bed and watches

Netflix on her iPad until she falls asleep.
Ann sits on a blanket in a meadow, while the cat looks at her, she pets it behind

its ear, and it purrs, but not as a kitten, more deep as you would expect from a

fully-grown predator, like a lion. The big cat rests its huge head in her lap; it’s
almost too big for that. As she sits there, in what can only be described as a weird

sort of yoga posture, she’s resting her back up against the tree. She looks down at

the cat, feeling the weight of its head. Although she’s sitting with a predator, she
feels kind of safe - she knows this place. There’s smells of grass and cow

excrement, and morning dew in certain areas of the meadow. She lets her gaze

dwell a little at the large, heavy drops that hangs on the leaves. She lets her
hands slide up and down her bare arms, comforting them. It's getting cooler, but

if she goes back out into the sun, it would be boiling; she loves the shade under
her tree. There is something else there’s standing out in the distance. She tries to