“restrictive cardiomyopathy, a severe case of it, which he was born with, and which was destined to cause his heart to go at a young age.”
“But he was hit by a car.” “There is a difference, Nora, between dying in a road and being hit by a car.”
“In your root life Voltaire lived longer than almost any other life, except the one you’ve just encountered, where he died only three hours ago.”
“Although he had a tough few early years, the year you had him was the best of his life. Voltaire has had much worse lives, believe me.”
“You didn’t even know his name a moment ago. Now you know he had restrictive cardio-whatever?”
“I knew his name. And it wasn’t a moment ago. It was the same moment, check your watch.”
“Why did you lie?” “I wasn’t lying. I asked you what your cat’s name was. I never said I didn’t know what your cat’s name was.”
Do you understand the difference? I just wanted you to say his name, so that you would feel something.
Nora was hot with agitation now. “That’s even worse! You sent me into that life knowing Volts would be dead.
And Volts was dead. So, nothing changed.” Mrs Elm’s eyes twinkled again. “Except you.”
“What do you mean?” “Well, you don’t see yourself as a bad cat owner any more.”
“You looked after him as well as he could have been looked after. He loved you as much as you loved him, and maybe he didn’t want you to see him die.”
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