Still have not actually laid eyes on Bella since five minutes after she got here Tuesday afternoon, but I know she's here. I had a meeting here last night, seven people knocking on the door, coming in, talking, leaving -- I'm sure Bella was trying to burrow down into the apartment below the whole time. But: in the middle of the night she crept out from under the bed and made a daring incursion into enemy territory, which is apparently every place that isn't under the bed. She used the litter box, then stole into the kitchen and had some food and water. I heard all this; she may be stealthy but she ain't silent. Then she tiptoed back into the bedroom, stood in the middle of the floor, and meowed. Not the most melodious of cat voices, I must say, scratchy and she can't hold a note, keeps sliding flat. I answered, she meowed, and we had a little conversation until I decided it was time to go back to sleep. She tried to keep the discussion going but I was too tired. I thought she might jump up on the bed, at least to take a look and see if she liked my face any better now that we'd talked, but she just climbed back under and dug her way behind the boxes, where, ignoring a bowlful of breakfast, she remains. I'm wondering whether this will go on for the next fifteen years: she kills mice, eats and poops in the middle of the night, and is never seen again.