She turned, saw Sydney's empty perch, and nearly choked on her heart. "Where's Sydney?"
"The cat?" Janette gave her a slow, teasing, cruel smile that, for a moment, had Natalie mentally inventorying every sliver of wood in the apartment. "In your room. He took a dislike to me, and I tired of his hissing." She laughed. "I don't eat cats, Doctor. I do have standards."
"Good for you," Natalie muttered, retrieving Sydney's food and water dishes and stomping down the hall.