Page 43 of Love at First Ink

Oh, no! I’ll keep an eye out at the shelter in case anyone comes by. Please update me or let me know if you need me to help search.

Stella was sweet, but she didn’t have it in her to allow someone else to see her failure. Cisco was enough.

“Let’s go walk the street. Maybe she’s somewhere nearby,” Cisco insisted and took Marisol’s hand. Without his guidance, she didn’t believe she’d be able to make it out of her home alone.

“I left the window open…” she muttered softly as soon as the elevator doors closed. “And now she’s gone. I’m so stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid,” Cisco said, his words almost a growl. “This was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”

It could have, but it happened toher. Which made it feel even worse.

When the elevator doors opened again, Cisco led her out and straight to the doorman. She followed him blindly, her body on autopilot. “Have you seen a white cat recently?”

The young man thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Can’t say I have. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Will someone let Marisol Roberts know if a white cat is found?”

“She’s wearing a pink collar,” Marisol added.

The man nodded. “Of course. I’ll let the front lobby people know. I hope you find your cat, miss.”

“We will.” There was no room for argument in Cisco’s words. She was glad one of them felt confident.

“Let’s start this way.” Cisco gestured to the left, heading toward the majority of the downtown restaurants. “Maybe she smelled something.”

Marisol lived in the middle of the city. It wasn’t a residential neighborhood where few cars passed and no restaurants lined the streets. No, her house was by a major highway with tons of people coming and going at all times of the day. Images of Snowball walking into the middle of the road and a car not seeing her filled Marisol’s mind. As quickly as they came, she pushed them away. She couldn’t think like that. It would only drive her crazy.

Cisco’s warm hand squeezed hers. He was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment. “We will find her,” he promised. “We’ll start this way and go from here.”

Marisol nodded, offering no resistance as she let herself be dragged along. Every step felt like a monumental effort, as if gravity itself was working against her. Moving on her own felt impossible, a chore she wasn’t willing to take on right now.

Cisco’s voice rang out as he called for Snowball, his tone laced with concern. Marisol knew she should help, should at least try. Wandering aimlessly like a ghost wasn’t doing any good. But her body refused to cooperate, weighed down by exhaustion and by emotion. Her mind screamed at her tomove, to push through it, but all she could do was stand there, trapped in the disconnect between thought and action.

They combed the streets, calling Snowball’s name into the night. They stopped at restaurants, questioning staff, and checked with shop owners, hoping someone had spotted a fluffy white cat wandering by. They searched back alleys, peering behind dumpsters and under parked cars, their footsteps echoing in the dimly lit spaces. Everywhere they looked, cats prowled the city—strays of all colors darting in and out of sight—but none of them were Snowball.

With each hour that passed, Marisol felt her hope wither, crumbling piece by piece until all that remained was a dull, aching void in her chest.

“We will find her, Marisol. I promise,” Cisco said, his voice steady but not as certain as before. It was the tenth time he’d reassured her, maybe more, but this time… this time, she heard the hesitation. The exhaustion. The creeping doubt that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Hours of searching had worn him down, just as they had her.

And yet, he still pushed ahead, with Marisol following behind him, calling out for a cat who stole her heart.

They failed.

Cisco walked with her back to her house in silence. Even he looked at a loss for what to do now. She almost felt the need to reassure him, but she just didn’t have it in her. She saw from the corner of her eye the way he constantly checked on her, opening his mouth to say something, but then immediately closing it.

There wasn’t anything to say.

“You should go home.” Marisol’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Thank you for your help today. I’m sorry you had to miss work for this.” She actually didn’t know if he worked today, or if he had plans, but if he did, Marisol had ruined them.

“I didn’t have work today. I’m not going home.” He slowed his pace to match hers.

“There’s nothing else you can do.”

“I’m not going home,” he repeated. His firm tone told her there was no budging with him.

They fell back into silence as they walked the final block to her condo. Cisco’s hand stayed on her back. It was a small gesture, but it brought her comfort. When they approached the front door, the young man who was working earlier was no longer there. He was replaced with the nighttime doorman, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair. Mr. Barnes, she believed his name was. He had been working here longer than Marisol had lived here.

“Good evening, Miss Roberts. You have a visitor,” Mr. Barnes said, opening the door.

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