George noticed it first.
That should have surprised me, but it didn’t. Cats have always seemed unnecessarily comfortable with things the rest of us prefer not to see.
He was sitting in front of the tall living-room windows, perfectly still, watching his own reflection in the darkening glass. Outside, October wind scattered leaves across the yard. Inside, the fire cracked softly behind me.
“George?” One ear turned toward me. His reflection didn’t move.
I stopped. George looked over his shoulder.
The cat in the window continued staring straight ahead.
Then, very slowly, the reflection lifted its head and looked past me.
George hissed.
I didn’t turn around.
Everyone says the veil between worlds grows thin in October.
What nobody tells you is that sometimes the other side notices first.