He walked for over an hour, weaving through dorm courtyards and quiet lecture halls, checking her usual nap spots. But there was no sign of her—not even a rustle in the bushes or a flash of fur in the grass. Eventually, he gave up, heart heavy, and trudged home in silence.
The next morning, Pedro opened his shop with an unusual tightness in his chest. Even as he chopped onions and flipped sausages, his eyes flicked to his phone every few minutes. At five minutes to eleven, he stepped outside, scanning the street, willing Lola to appear with her leaf.