I might well have forgotten to shut the kitchen door, or I could even have knocked it to without closing it properly. I sat up, my heart suddenly thumping, and Delilah leaped onto my bed with a glad little chirrup, but I snatched her to my chest, stilling her movements, listening. She thumped to the floor with an indignant little meep and I pulled the duvet over my head, but even through the covers I could hear her scratching at the bottom of the door, rattling it in its frame. I tried to bury my face in the pillow but she continued rubbing herself against my ear, and eventually I rolled over and heartlessly pushed her off the bed. Delilah mewed and butted me with her head. I must have forgotten to shut the kitchen door last night. The first inkling that something was wrong was waking in darkness to find the cat pawing at my face.
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