Chapter 2The Ghost in My Phone

Lucky was a rescue.

The night I finally fled my boyfriend's apartment, a torrential downpour was hammering the city. On the side of the road, I found a tiny, soaking wet kitten, its eyes not even open yet. It was no bigger than a mouse.

The vet at the emergency clinic just shook his head. "He's too young, probably abandoned by the mother. He's unlikely to make it."

But I insisted they try. He was fighting so hard to suckle from the little bottle. Watching him, I saw myself, desperately trying to survive.

Against all odds, Lucky made it.

My small, empty apartment slowly filled with cat bowls, cat beds, and cat trees. Lucky was a perfect gentleman. He never scratched the furniture, but he also never seemed to learn much of anything. It didn't matter. Whenever I was home, he was a permanent, purring attachment to my body.

For a while, I thought I had adopted the world's most angelic cat. Until I realized—every single online test for cat intelligence, Lucky scored a perfect zero.

Finally, I took him back to the vet. The doctor looked at me with pity. "He's a very sweet cat," he said gently. "He's just... not an Ivy League candidate."

Fine. It's not like I expected him to go to college. What was I going to do, divorce my cat?

Coming home from work, lounging on the sofa, falling asleep at night—there was always a soft, warm, purring body snuggled up against me. Raising Lucky felt like I was healing my own childhood.

Until the day the doorbell rang. The delivery guy said I had a package that needed a signature. I was expecting something, so I didn't think twice. I opened the door.

My blood ran cold. It was Jake.

He reeked of whiskey. As I tried to slam the door, he forced his way in and kicked me hard in the stomach.

"You bitch!"

His palm cracked against my face, my head ringing. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me backward. I couldn't breathe.

"You're seeing someone else, aren't you?" he slurred, his hands tearing at my clothes. "My dad was right. All women need is a good beating to learn their place!"

Buttons popped. I screamed, struggling, fumbling for my phone to dial 911. The call connected for a split second before he kicked the phone out of my hand. I managed one desperate cry for "Help!" before he clamped his hand over my mouth.

Just as I thought it was over, a black-and-white blur shot across the room.

It was Lucky.

My timid little cat, who usually hid under the bed when the mailman came, launched himself at the hand choking me and sank his teeth into it.

Jake roared in pain and kicked him. Lucky flew across the room and hit the coffee table with a sickening thud. He didn't make a sound.

"Lucky!"

A wave of pure adrenaline surged through me. I rammed my head into Jake's gut, knocking him off balance. I scrambled towards my cat's limp body.

"Lucky!"

He was completely limp. My hands were shaking, my limbs numb.

Suddenly, my hair was yanked back. Jake was on me again, his face twisted in rage, his hands closing around my neck. "You dare hit me?"

My fingers closed around a heavy vase on the end table. I swung it with all my might against the back of his head. He staggered, and I broke free, scooping up my cat.

"HELP ME!" I screamed, running for the door.

At that moment, there was a loud banging on the door. My neighbors.

"Maya! Maya, are you in there?"

Jake lunged for me again, covering my mouth and nose. The knocking stopped. My heart sank.

Then, CRACK!

The door splintered open. My neighbor from next door, a big guy from the gym downstairs, and a few others had heard my screams and broken the door down. They saw Jake on top of me.

Jake finally looked scared. He let go and tried to run. The gym guy tackled him and held him until the police arrived.

"Are you okay, kid?" one of them asked, stuffing a dirty sock in Jake's mouth to shut him up.

My face was covered in blood. I was shaking uncontrollably as I held my cat. "Lucky... Lucky..."

My neighbor saw the state I was in, grabbed his keys, and drove me to the nearest 24-hour animal hospital. He waved off my thanks as I left a pool of blood—mine or Lucky's, I couldn't tell—on his car seat. "Just go!"

I ran inside, clutching my cat.

...

The prognosis was grim. The hospital set up a group chat for updates. In the days that followed, the vibration of my phone became the sound I feared most in the world.

The news was never good. And it kept getting worse.

"Lucky remains in a deep coma."

"No signs of waking. The outlook is not positive."

"He developed a fever this afternoon."

"Lucky started having seizures. We're stabilizing him now. He's experiencing liver and kidney failure."

...

I filed a police report immediately. I had broken up with Jake because I discovered he was violent. I had been so careful when I moved, telling none of our mutual friends my new address. I had no idea how he found me.

I couldn't quit my job. The vet bills were piling up. I wanted to be at the hospital with Lucky every second, but I had to earn the money to save him. Every day at work was torture, my stomach in knots, dreading the next notification from the group chat.

One morning, the sky was a grim, oppressive gray. A terrible feeling washed over me. I checked the group chat. The last message was from midnight, after they'd brought Lucky back from cardiac arrest. I let out a shaky breath. No news is good news.

I was wrong. Jake, that bastard, wasn't done with me.

I got to my office building, and he was there, waiting with a group of his friends and a bouquet of roses. He had a sheepish grin on his face.

"Babe, I'm sorry. It's just a cat. Forgive me?" he said, trying to hand me the flowers. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Get away from me," I spat, not even wanting to look at his disgusting face.

One of his friends chimed in. "Come on,嫂子 (sao-zi, sister-in-law). He knows he was wrong. You've been together for years. A little fight is normal."

I stopped. I looked at this crowd of pathetic excuses for men. "I'll say this one more time. Jake and I are broken up. He broke into my home, he tried to rape me, he nearly killed my cat, and he trashed my apartment. I've already called the police."

Jake's face darkened. He threw the roses on the ground. "Don't be a bitch," he hissed. "You really want to do this?"

This monster worked as an executive at a big tech firm. The company culture favored employees in stable, long-term relationships. He was up for a promotion. That's why he was here.

...

In the middle of the confrontation, my phone rang. I saw it was the animal hospital. My heart leaped into my throat. As I reached for it, Jake slapped the phone out of my hand. It hit the pavement, the screen cracking.

"You're recording me?" he snarled.

I scrambled for the phone. It had to be about Lucky. "Let go of me!" I screamed.

I slapped him, hard. His smile vanished. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. "You're asking for it, aren't you?"

My coworkers tried to intervene, but his friends blocked them. "Hey, it's just a lovers' quarrel. Stay out of it."

"Let me go! It's the hospital!" I fought like a wild animal, scratching his face, kicking his shin. He finally yelped in pain and let go.

"Are you crazy?"

I probably looked it. I didn't care. I grabbed my phone. The screen was black.

I didn't think. I just ran into the street, flagging down a cab, desperate to get to the hospital.

But when I got there, the vet looked at me with sad eyes.

"Lucky passed away five minutes ago."

He sighed. "He was waiting for you."

My body went cold. I reached out and touched his still-warm body, the tears finally coming, hot and endless.

"Baby... Mom's here..."

Lucky's eyes, which had been open, finally closed.