Maria ran, breath tearing, and dialed emergency services with shaking fingers. By the time officers arrived, Sahara was gone. Only pawprints stamped the wet ground. “She was right there,” Maria insisted, voice breaking. The officers exchanged glances, but the report was logged. The city’s pulse quickened with unease.
Later that day, a delivery driver parked outside a grocery store. As he returned to his truck, he spotted Sahara on a low rooftop, her tail swaying in rhythm. His heart thudded. He dropped the crate he carried, glass shattering. But he had the sense to click a photo of the cat.