Pet Me If You Can 3

"The analogy is inaccurate, but acceptable. The mass meets structural requirements."

Polina sat beside him and rested her head against his side.

"You're just fat."

"Visual assessment does not support your conclusion."

"Then you're heavy."

"That is more accurate."

For once, Igor came home on time. After dinner, Polina lay on the living room rug beside Fyodor. Water ran and dishes clinked in the kitchen - Olga was clearing the table, while Igor still sat there scrolling through something on his phone.

The screen suddenly lit up. Igor quickly read the message and placed the phone face down, but a few seconds later he picked it up again, rose from the table, and went into the bedroom, pulling the door almost shut behind him.

Olga said nothing. She merely took a plate she had already washed and ran the sponge around its edge again. Polina noticed from the living room and lowered her eyes to the pattern of the rug. Her father's voice came faintly from the bedroom, but she could not make out the words.

Several minutes later, Igor returned. Conversation at the table did not resume. Later, alone with Fyodor in her room, Polina traced the pattern on the rug for a long time and finally asked:

"Are they going to get divorced?"

Fyodor turned his head toward her.

"I do not have enough information."

"When will you have enough?"

He did not answer. Polina took him by the ear and tugged gently because his silence annoyed her.

She moved closer and placed her hand on his side. Steady warmth passed through the fur. She wanted to hear neither a calculation nor a notice about insufficient data, but a simple adult "no." Fyodor could warn her about rain, read her pulse from her skin, and distinguish footsteps on the stairs. But he would not answer the most important question. That made him seem almost alive: living adults also fell silent exactly where a child was most afraid.