Part 2: The secret my daughter left behind.
I stayed there, on my knees, longer than I had imagined, my body frozen while my heart tried to catch up with what my eyes saw.

It wasn’t the sweater from the accident.

Ezoic.
As this thought took hold, the tightness in my chest dissipated. I recognized the seams, the slight difference in the buttons. It was the second sweater. The one I’d bought months earlier because Lily insisted on having a spare « just in case. »

I had completely forgotten about that.

In the fog of grief, I hadn’t even noticed her absence.

« Lily… » I murmured, my voice barely audible in the silence of the shed .

The realization came in successive waves, each stronger than the last. It wasn’t simply a stray cat that had wandered into an abandoned place. It was an intentional, deliberate, and benevolent act.

That was my daughter.

Ezoic.
She must have found the cat weeks ago, maybe even longer. A pregnant calico cat looking for shelter as winter approached. Lily had always noticed the animals that others ignored. She talked to them, worried about them, made up stories.

She had to sneak here with her small backpack, carrying leftover food, water bowls, and pieces of her clothes. Not toys. Not old rags. Her clothes. Things that smelled like home.

My daughter had built this nest.

Ezoic.
I pressed my palm flat to the earthen floor, overwhelmed by a wave of emotion different from the grief that had been crushing me. This sensation didn’t engulf me. It lifted me, just enough to allow me to breathe.

The cat watched me intently, her green eyes steady and calm. She didn’t hiss or back away. She didn’t stiffen when I approached. It was as if she knew who I was.

« You trusted him, » I whispered. « Didn’t you? »

Ezoic
The cat blinked slowly, then let herself fall back against her kittens, her body relaxing.

Baxter stepped forward, his tail twitching, and gently sniffed the small clump of fur. The kittens stirred but didn’t meow. They felt safe.

He knew it.

Azoic.
One way or another, Baxter had known it from the beginning.

He had been part of that quiet routine, that secret world Lily had built without asking for anything in return. The fact that he had brought me here seemed deliberate, as if he were finishing something Lily hadn’t had time to complete.

I stayed there for a long time, watching the kittens’ steady breathing. The silence in the shed wasn’t as oppressive as in my house. It wasn’t filled with emptiness.

Ezoic.
It was imbued with a strong presence.

Finally, I reached out, my movements slow and cautious. The cat didn’t withdraw when I gently stroked her fur. She was warm. Alive. Real.

« You’re safe now, » I whispered, not quite sure if I was talking to her or to myself.

Ezoic.
One by one, I lifted the kittens and held them close. They were incredibly small, their bodies light but bursting with life. The mother cat followed me without hesitation, snuggling into the crook of my arm as if she trusted me completely.

Baxter stayed close to me, pacing right behind me as we walked back towards the house. His tail wagged more and more with each step, as if he knew we were making the right choice.

I wore them indoors.

Ezoic.
I found a clean laundry basket and filled it with soft towels, which I arranged carefully. I placed it in the living room, next to the armchair where Lily liked to curl up with her books. I filled a bowl with water, opened a can of tuna, and placed it nearby.

The cat ate peacefully. The kittens snuggled together.

Baxter lay down near the basket, his head resting on the ground, his eyes alert.

Ezoic
When Daniel came down later that evening, his steps were slow and hesitant. He stopped abruptly when he saw me on the ground, near the basket.

He remained frozen for a moment, confusion evident on his face.

« What’s going on? » he asked in a low voice.

Ezoic.
I looked up at him, Lily’s yellow sweater neatly folded on my lap. For the first time in weeks, the tears in my eyes weren’t sharp. They were soft.

« It belongs to Lily, » I said softly. « Her secret. »

He carefully slumped back in the chair, his brows furrowed as I explained everything. The sweater. Baxter. The shed. The clothes. The cat and her kittens.

Ezoic.
He listened without interrupting, his expression changing as the story unfolded. When I finished, he leaned forward and reached out, touching one of the kittens with his fingertip.

« She was helping them, » he murmured.

« Yes, » I said. « She was. »

Aeolian.
For a moment, none of us spoke. The atmosphere in the room was different. Not calm. Not whole. But lighter.

We decided to keep them.

The following days brought a peaceful rhythm back to our home. Bottle feedings. Clean towels. Gentle laughter as the kittens playfully squabbled. Baxter took his role very seriously, never straying far from the basket.

Ezoic
Taking care of them gave us something to do with our hands, something to focus on besides the pain in our chests.

One evening, I walked into Lily’s room without stopping at the door. I took the bracelet she had made for me and tied it around my wrist, even though it was a little tight. I sat down at her desk and opened her sketchbook.

The sunflower smiled at me, unfinished but radiant.

Ezoic
And for the first time, I gave her back her smile.

That evening, sitting by the window with the yellow sweater on my lap, I whispered, « I will take care of them. Just like you did. »

Baxter rested her head at my feet. The cat was purring softly, her kittens snuggled against her.

Ezoic.
It was the first night I slept without waking up in a panic.

And when morning arrived, when sunlight flooded the room and the kittens stirred, it felt as if Lily were still there. Without pain. Without sadness.

But in the goodness she left behind.

Part 3: Learning to live with the love she left behind