BityTD

They learned the old arts because the old arts were waiting. They learned to press fabric with a cat’s patience, to fold corners until they

Cherie added, “If you want to enjoy extra, you can always bring a basket just for you. But at the tea table, we share.”

Maddie shook her head. “But we’re not sick, and we’re not dead.”

That’s the thing about me — I stumble, I spill, I drop. But when I do, something new appears. A crooked spoon becomes a magic wand, a topple

Inside, the air shimmered. This was no ordinary house. It was an atelier — once the grandest in town.

No kitten from the haunted houses had ever been chosen before.

So the kittens hatched a plan. If they had to go to town for “design daycare” to keep safe, then they would make the most of it.

Crooked,” said Violet, wrinkling her whiskers. “Magical,” corrected Poppy, her eyes sparking.

No one expected much from the shabby old house at the edge of town, but inside lived twelve kittens who never thought of their life as shabby at all.