Maybe living in close quarters with a cat could be good for her. A form of . . . exposure therapy, desensitizing her over time. Either that, or Cat would claw her to death in her sleep. She couldn’t help but see it as an analogy for her and Olivia. Living together would either benefit them both or explode in Margot’s face. One or the other. Margot had never been very good at operating on anything but a scale of either/or, all or nothing, particularly when it came to Olivia.
Margot grabbed her phone and fired off a quick text to her oldest brother, Cameron.
Margot (5:14 p.m.): Cats—what do I need to know about them?
As a veterinarian, Cameron had to possess some wisdom worth her while. Tips, tricks, warnings, anything.
Andrew (5:16 p.m.): why are you asking
Andrew (5:16 p.m.): you hate cats
She screwed up her face. Great. She’d clicked on the wrong message thread, texting the family group chat instead.
Margot (5:17 p.m.): Sorry, I meant to just text Cam.
Margot (5:17 p.m.): And I don’t HATE cats, I have a healthy respect for them.
Andrew (5:18 p.m.): “respect”
Margot (5:19 p.m.):