Chapter 3 On the living room carpet, Sirocco, who was usually so bursting with energy, lay like a marathon runner who had just crossed the finish line. “You know, Aeolus, my stomach thinks someone slit my throat and it’s screaming for help, but I don’t even have the strength to eat.” “How come, shorty? Where have you guys been putting up flyers?” Mistral asked. “Eveeeerywhere! Miss Remi is on every single pole... double-time.” “What do you mean? How am I double-time?” Remi whispered, as if terrified the humans might hear her. “On one side, the missing successful writer, and on the other, the found purebred Angora cat...” “Mon Dieu! Somebody pinch me!” Mistral felt utterly drained himself, even though he hadn’t left the house. After the humans left to post the flyers, the fur-balls left at home tried to take advantage of the writer’s cell phone, but... it was dead. Now, another “Mission Impossible” was needed to charge the phone’s battery without the grownups noticing, and without...