"She's missing!" my sister cried, "Melissa is missing!"

We tore through the house, calling out for my niece, looking in her room and under her bed, but she was no where to be found. My sister was crying. She wasn't even looking any more, she was just kneeling on the floor and sobbing like a child. I called the police, and they came with sirens wailing and started to canvas the neighborhood.

How old was Melissa? Three
What was she wearing? Dora pajamas
What color was her hair? Blond.
Did she have any distignuishing marks? She sucked her thumb.

They looked and looked and didn't find her. A helecopter came out.

My brother and I went out on the steps, to get away from the sound of Jessica's cries. We were both pale and quiet. Where could she have gone?

Then we heard the noise. A rustling. We peered under the stairs. Some fingers poke out between the slats. Tiny fingers.

"She's under the house!" we shouted. I grabbed a hammer and pulled on the slats and reached inside to grab her. I tugged her out into the sunshine. She had leaves in her hair.

"Melissa, what were you doing?" I asked her.

She pointed under the stairs, and I looked.

A litter of kittens, wrapped in her blanket lay under the stairs.