“Ooooooh Mom,” Zoen sung prancing through the  leaf door.

Arthur, his father sat paralyzed at the kitchen table dangling an empty cup in his boney hand over the table’s edge.
“Dad?”

“She’s… gone.”

Zoen’s heart became a stone that fell into his stomach.

“What do you mean?”

Arthur stood and walked to the sink, which read Natural Buttery Spread. He held the cup over his head and threw it so hard; it shattered into tiny pieces.

“It took her.”

“What,” said Zoen?

Arthur collapsed. His entire body became a mass of fur in front of the sink. His short arms and thick legs were spread wide like a starfish on the floor. Zoen rushed to his father’s side and entwined their antenna to comfort him. Arthur's limbs shook like a vibrating ball. 
“A Kook Trader,” he whispered.
Eleven years of peace; broken, thought Zoen.