Years later, I still keep her collar next to the shawarma spices. It reminds me that sometimes, justice doesn’t wear a badge or carry a gun.
Sometimes, justice walks on four paws and never meows twice in the same way.
Life’s weird like that.
You can bury truth. But it claws back out.
So if something feels off, follow your gut. Or the cat. Whichever comes first.
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Even the smallest messengers can carry the biggest truths.
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