It was the night of the fifth day since Okara had run away.

The air after the rain was still humid, and puddles remaining on the asphalt reflected the streetlights in distorted shapes. The photo of "Okara" remained open on my smartphone screen. I had shown it to neighbors countless times, and countless times they had shaken their heads.

I walked along, thinking I should make today the last day of searching. I didn't want to think about what I would do starting tomorrow once I stopped.

I stopped at the entrance to the park. I came here yesterday. And the day before that. Still, as if drawn by something, I stepped onto the gravel and looked toward the bench in the back where the streetlights didn't reach—

My breath caught.

There was a silhouette in the darkness. Large, quiet, with a presence that clearly didn't belong in a park at this hour. And on his lap... was a familiar silhouette.

Curled up, completely relaxed. And looking so comfortable I could almost hear him purring from here...