" Nate used his left foot to block a determined Zero from escaping before closing his door with the intention to begin the next step in his own plan. His Plan B if you're keeping track ‒ once again hoping that Twitch had stayed put ‒ and which first required that he be granted his second out of the afternoon.

Upon hearing the customary creak of a more tangible step ‒ the second from the bottom on the wooden staircase, which had become gradually loosened from the risers above and below it over time ‒ his mother did an about face from the bar, where she was making last minute modifications to her shopping list.

The sound by then had become oddly comforting to each family member ‒ for separate but similar reasons. The step itself been repaired in just minutes, years prior when Dr. Lansing added five nails to the tread. But one evening many months ago it just as abruptly reappeared.

Nate was the first to notice when, as Natalie bounded up the stairs ‒ which she so often did en route to his room ‒ it matter-of-factly announced its return. He pondered for the briefest moment if he hadn't simply imagined it, recalling several prior occasions when he'd become temporarily convinced that the faint but familiar cries of X-Ray were whispering to him from directly below his window ‒ though leading to anticlimax in each instance.

Before knocking however, Natalie placated his incredulity.

"It's back!” she exclaimed with typical unfettered enthusiasm, while smiling unseen from just beyond his closed door. Although he failed to demonstrate even a remotely comparable level of excitement, it turned into a pleasant reunification for Nate nonetheless, and this time ‒ due perhaps in equal parts to its' lesser prioritization and his greater procrastination ‒ their father had left well enough alone.

During its previous incarnation it had been labeled by Ms. Lansing as the Cat's Bell due to its function as an auditory cue of the comings and goings in the home, although the cats themselves sauntered about far too lightly to bring about any noticeable effect..

Nate had become so attuned to its mildly disquieting creaks and more subtle wooden groans as to discern ‒ even when his door was closed ‒ whether Natalie had been specifically intent on visiting him, or was instead merely passing by along the way to her own room. A distinction which was due primarily to an initial amplified vibration that he decided brought to mind the recoil of a springboard, then followed by a sequence of forward gliding leaps rather than her usual evenly paced yet swift footsteps. "

― Monte Souder (Rat Luck: Vol I)