I'm feeling better as I enter the kitchen, mind turning, my optimism and excitement rushing to greet me as I ponder the problem. I normally love problems and figuring out how to solve them. And I let Tom Brown take that away from me. I'm smirking with what has to be satisfaction at the imagining of his downfall as I stride through the glass door. Until Mom turns around and lets out a squeak at the sight of me.
"Kitten MacLean! What happened?"
I brush her concern off with one of my old grins, so happy to feel myself again I lunge to hug her. She avoids me and the sticky mess, handing me some paper towel. "Just a prank," I say, skipping past her, enthusiasm returned where once it was impossible even to fake. As I wink at her, I feel it surge. Tom's declaration of war has freed me. And I've
