Camie was gone when Erin came downstairs, but Tiger greeted her with a yowl and rubbed against her leg, leaving a smear of orange hairs across her tan slacks. He kept up a rumbling monologue as he followed her into the kitchen. She bent to scratch his head. “Whatever you say, buddy.” She fixed herself cereal and sat at the table. Tiger hopped onto a chair that was still pulled out from last night. He was big enough to comfortably look at her over the table with unblinking amber eyes. He meowed. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Erin said. “You don’t have to go into the office today.” He made a noise that sounded like a question. “I have to post final grades. You can bet I’ll have students complaining.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why they imagine they should pass the class if they don’t show up or turn in homework. And yet somehow they’re shocked when they get an F. Then they come whining to me about losing their scholarships. Is that my problem?”
