Friendship
"I don't like cats," Simon said. "They're dirty."
"They're not dirty," I said, defending Blinky and all of catkind. "They wash themselves all the time."
"They wash themselves with their tongue," he said and made a face like he was grossed out. "But if you love cats, then this is the place to be. There are dozens and dozens of them here. I'll show you."
My desire to get out of the junkyard wasn't as strong as my curiosity. Why would there be dozens of cats here?
Jacob was stunned. Rachel had devoured his best riddles the way his father's customers devoured fresh rugelach. He was about to say so when he was distracted by a loud noise at the inn's door. Standing in the entry was a young woman, who might have been beautiful had she not looked so distraught.
"I am Miriam," she said. "I hear there is a clever child at this inn. One who is good at solving riddles."
"I am happy to help you," Rachel said, but Jacob's voice was louder.
"My name is Jacob," he announced, stepping in front of Rachel.
"But I'm the one you're looking for," Rachel protested.
