She glanced at the bed where Bamboo was still lounging. “I’m just being paranoid, right Bamboo?” He didn’t answer this time. She turned, still crouched by the window and sniffed the tee in her hand, making a face at the used smell of it. She made her way to the dresser to find a clean one, staying out of the line of sight of the window. “What the heck is he up to, anyway?” Overnight Bamboo had become her own personal therapist. “I mean, what’s he doing that he thinks I’m going to get in his way?” She wondered aloud, pulling a clean tee out of the drawer and slipping it over her head. Hadn’t Dusty and Shadow implied that her father was hiding out somewhere among humans plotting something diabolical? Revenge? World domination? And yet, despite everything – evidence of his treachery, and the fact that he wanted her dead - she still felt an overwhelming urge to find him and meet him. She still had an empty hole that needed a father peg plugged in. “I clearly have Daddy issues, huh Bamboo?” He opened one eye and gave her a ‘duh’ kind of look .
“But I should be able to decide for myself about him, shouldn’t I?"
Bamboo grunted a muffled meow. He didn't sound convinced.
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