With an explosion of movement, Whiskers pounced. Emma barely registered the motion before searing pain lanced through her side. Razor-sharp claws grazed her flesh.

Emma felt the ground beneath her shift with the cat's every playful bat, her tiny body tossed like a rag doll.

Emma had always known the risks of crossing paths with the giant human's pet, but to be caught in such a cruel game was a fate she had hoped to avoid.

Whiskers' jaws clamped around Emma's body, encasing her in darkness. She trembled against her tongue, anticipating the crunch of bone, but her teeth merely pressed into her flesh. She was being gentle.

Emma's mind reeled. Why prolong this torture? Why not end it swiftly? She struggled feebly as the cat carried her away,

Through the haze of her fear, Emma glimpsed the changing scenery as they passed through the back door, left ajar. She braced herself for the unknown, unable to wriggle free from the soft vise of Whiskers' mouth.

Sterling sat in the living room, engrossed in a book, when Whiskers padded in.

"Whiskers, what have you got there?" Sterling's voice boomed, laced with surprise.

Sterling extended a cautious hand toward the feline; his fingers splayed in a silent request. "Easy, Whiskers," he murmured, his deep voice a soothing thrum. The cat, with a certain grace only animals possess, opened her mouth and released Emma onto the broad plateau of Sterling's palm.

"Let me go, you monster!" she shrieked. "I won't be kept as some pet, dressed up and put on display! Release me at once, or you'll regret it!"

Emma's heart hammered against her ribs as she beat her tiny fist against the human's fingers as they curled around her tiny body. She knew her chances were slim but refused to cower before him.

Sterling blinked in surprise at the tiny borrower's outburst. He had expected fear, not this fiery anger directed at him.

"Shhh...it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he said gently.

Emma quieted slightly, though her chest still heaved with adrenaline and exertion. She eyed the human warily as he examined her small frame, wincing as he noticed the wounds left by Whiskers' claws.

"Those scrapes look nasty. Here, let me clean them for you," Sterling murmured.

*****

Sterling gazed down at the tiny borrower pinned beneath his fingers. She looked so fragile and helpless. He felt a swell of protectiveness towards her, this feisty little thing.

"There now, just relax," he murmured. "I'm going to take a look at those injuries."

Keeping her immobilized with one hand, he used the other to gently turn her limbs this way and that, inspecting the damage left by his cat's claws. Emma winced as he probed particularly deep cuts, letting out small squeaks of pain that tugged at his heart.

"Poor little dear, Whiskers gave you quite a mauling," Sterling said sympathetically. "But don't you worry, I'll have you patched up in no time."

He retrieved his first aid kit, selecting a gauze roll and disinfectant. Emma continued to struggle weakly, hissing curses at him all the while.

Sterling selected a thin strip of gauze and began the delicate task of wrapping it around Emma's tiny leg.

"Damn you, stop fussing over me like I'm some sort of doll!" Emma’s voice cracked with fear.

"Easy now," Sterling murmured, his attention never wavering from the task at hand. "I'm almost done here."

"Almost done?" Emma snapped, her words laced with a cocktail of emotions. "You've already manhandled me enough for one day!" Her fiery gaze locked onto his, challenging him despite the obvious disparity in their strengths.

"Manhandled is hardly fair,” Sterling replied with a hint of amusement. “I’m trying to help you." He tied off the end of the gauze with a gentleness that belied his size, then moved to attend to another of her wounds.

"Help? You call this help?" she continued, although the tremble in her voice betrayed the pain she felt beyond the physical—a fear of being so utterly out of control.

"Most would," he said, his tone even, as he carefully wrapped a slender arm.

Emma gritted her teeth as the human continued tending to her wounds, his massive fingers moving with surprising care as he wrapped bandages around her tiny limbs. She hated feeling so vulnerable, so powerless in his grasp.

Emma scowled, her fear melting into indignation. "I don't need your help," she spat. "I can take care of myself just fine."

Sterling raised an eyebrow but remained patient. "I'm sure you can. But please, allow me to do this small thing for you."

When he finished, he kept her pinned a moment longer to ensure the bandages would hold. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand away, freeing the irate borrower.

Emma scrambled to her feet instantly, backing away from him. Sterling watched her sadly, wishing she would understand he only wanted to help. Sighing, he held out the remaining gauze roll to her.

"Here. In case you need more bandages later." An olive branch.

After a tense moment, Emma stepped forward and took the gauze roll from his outstretched fingers.

With bandages now encasing her limbs, Emma glowered up at Sterling, "If you don't mean us any harm, then why not get rid of that monstrous cat?" she demanded, her voice quivering with a mix of pain and resolve.

Sterling exhaled a weary sigh. "I can't do that," he said softly, a hint of sorrow lacing his words. "Whiskers is part of my family." He paused, searching his mind for the right words. "I've been trying to keep her away from your paths. I thought... I thought you little people only ventured out after dark."

Her heart skipped a beat, the reality of the situation dawning on her like a cold sunrise. "You know about us," she whispered, the horror of exposure creeping into her voice.

"Not long," Sterling admitted, shifting his weight uneasily. "But please understand, I'm not your enemy. I want to be friends, truly." His gaze softened, encompassing her in an invisible embrace of sincerity. "With you and your little family."

Emma's mind raced. He thought she was Milton's wife, part of the Borrowfield clan. Could she let this misconception stand? It would be so easy to nod and play the role.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat."How many... have you seen?" she ventured, her voice quivering.

"Four of your children," Sterling replied, his gaze thoughtful, "and their father, I presume.”

A shiver ran down Emma's spine; the Borrowfields had been spotted. It was both a stroke of luck and a terrifying revelation that the giant before her bore no ill will. With a gulp of courage, she corrected him, "They aren't my children. I'm... I'm just friends with the family."

Sterling's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Really? Well then, how many more of you are in my house?"

Emma bristled, feeling an innate defensiveness for her hidden community. "I've lived here longer than you have!" she retorted sharply, her small fists clenched. The notion that this human should even dare to inquire about her kind felt like an intrusion.

"Hey, easy now," Sterling coaxed, his deep voice gentle. "I didn't mean any harm by it. I just want to be sure I don't inadvertently hurt anyone."

Emma remained gruff, her trust not easily won. "You shouldn't need to know," she muttered.

The tension between them hung in the air until Sterling offered a peaceable olive branch. "Let's start over," he suggested. "My name is Sterling. What's your name?"

"Emma," she said with a toss of her head, her sass undiminished despite her vulnerable position on his desk.

"Emma," he repeated with a nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Emma curses as Sterling’s giant hand wraps around her tiny frame. She is surprised to find herself lifted down to the floor.

"Feel free to come and talk anytime," Sterling said, sincerity warming his tone. "I meant what I said about being friends."

Vexed and bewildered by the offer, Emma wasted no time. She scurried across the floor, darting into the safety of the walls.

*****

When she arrived home, Emma began pacing anxiously. Should she confront Milton about this? Should she demand an explanation?

Emma settled wearily onto her tiny bed, absently rubbing her bandaged limbs. As much as she hated to admit it, the human had been gentle in tending to her injuries. She supposed she should be thankful for that, at least. Not that she would ever say so to his face!

Letting out a long breath, Emma closed her eyes. She would deal with everything else after she'd had a chance to recover. For now, rest was what she needed most. Within moments, the weary borrower was fast asleep.