The day Felicity Bear left the house with her Baby, she hadn’t expected Kelvin to follow.

The morning had gone as planned; make breakfast before Kel woke, porridge mafe with milk and honey. Then, wake the Baby, eat, leave after Kel had left for work.

What Felicity had not anticipated was Kel’s work being cancelled. Twenty minutes after leaving, he had returned. She was paws deep in the stash of gold kept under the kitchen sink.

“Felicity?”

Felicity jumped. “Yes dear?” She tried to look normal.

“Why is the baby in his coat?”

Felicity cleared her throat “We were just about to go out.”

Kel studied her, circling. “And why were you under the kitchen sink if you were about to go out?”

“The sink was playing up.”

”And you didn’t call a plumber?” He asked.

“No. i thought I could—“

”Do I not provide for this family enough to maintain a proper house? Is that not your job, Felicity?”

Felicity swallowed. “Yes, dear. It is.”

Kelvin had never been a kind bear. Hard. Selfish. Cruel. And far too used to being in control. The second he felt Felicity slipping away from him, he held on tighter, until she stopped moving. Not literally, of course. He wasn't like that, Felicity told herself. He was a kind man, he had provided for her, for Baby; he was just stressed, just tired. She was a tiring woman to be around.

But now he was downright scary. Felicity stared at him, covering Baby with her body, as Kelvin smashed up the chairs in the living room; the small one her father had made for Baby before the arthritis took woodworking from him. The medium-sized one in the corner that she had bought for herself when she was younger with her first pay-check, the one that Kelvin looked at with a sort of disgust as if to say 'I provide you with better', like the worn down fabric and ratty frame were of personal insult. He didn't touch his own.

And then he went upstairs.

Felicity waited for his footsteps to clear. One. Two. Three.

And then she sprung for the phone.

Her paws shook as she dialed, claws scraping faintly against the plastic buttons. Baby whimpered beneath her, sensing the fear leeching from his mother’s fur.

“Come on… come on…” she whispered.

Upstairs, a drawer slammed. Then another. Kelvin was looking for something.

The line clicked.

“Emergency services. What’s your—”

Felicity froze.
What was her emergency?

Her eyes darted to the splintered remains of the small chair. To the stairs. To the front door, and his car outside.

If only he had gone to work…

“He’s going to come back down,” she whispered instead. “Please… he’s going to come back down.”

“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm. Are you in immediate danger?”

A heavy thud echoed from above. Slow footsteps followed.

“Yes,” Felicity breathed. “Yes, I think I am.”

Baby began to cry softly. Felicity shushed him, rocked him gently. He only cried louder.

“No, no, no…” Felicity whispered. The footsteps paused. Her blood ran cold.

“Felicity?” Kelvin’s voice called from the top of the stairs.

“Who are you talking to?”

Felicity couldn’t answer. The operator was still speaking, but the words blurred into static in her ears.

The first step creaked as Kelvin began his descent.

“One… two…” Felicity counted again, but this time it wasn’t for courage.

It was for timing. Three steps to reach the back door. She tightened her grip on Baby.

“Ma’am?” the voice in the phone urged. “Can you get somewhere safe?”

Felicity ran.