"I want my son back."

"Margarita, I told you... your son is dead."

"I know. But I want him back. Where is he?"

"You dug him up. They lynched the murderer. You were the one who set him on fire."

"You know what I'm asking."

The Master exhaled slowly.

"Magos, you have... a Gift now. You can find things, recover what was lost, track down what has vanished. Help people."

"I want my son."

"Margarita, your son is dead."

She stared at him. There was no need to repeat it. Again and again.

She would wait. She would sit there until the Master relented.

"The Gift of finding lost things cost you your life. If you wish to have your son close to you, just imagine—"

"I'd give my soul... to have him back."

"No, señora—God help us... What have you done...?"

<<Miau.>>

Margarita turned to the window.

She stood up and looked outside. The Master followed her.

The cat.

Alone.

Staring at her.

<<Miau.>>

But it wasn't him. Not that one.

Another cat had meowed.

Confused, Margarita scanned the surroundings until her eyes landed on a white cat perched on the wall across from the window, watching her.

Then, rising silently from the underbrush, another cat, a brown one, emerged and sat beside the red one.

The Master buried his face in his hands, distraught. Defeated.

A rustling in the tree—then, another cat leapt down to join the others.

The Master turned to Margarita.

"There is a natural order to everything. You cannot— you should not have—"

"Will I see him again? Will I have him near me?"** she asked, her soul already fractured.**

"Yes, Margarita. But it will cost you everything."

She nodded.

The Master sighed.

"Margarita, you must understand this: There is always a price. When something is lost, a Preordained Order governs the Universal Weave. To recover what was lost, to find what has vanished... a price must be paid. And something else must take its place. The things we bring back—"

His voice wavered.

"The price for them is steep. And something else must be taken from someone else... so that the void remains balanced."

"I want to see my son. Find him."

"You already have. And you've already paid in advance. Just know this—somewhere, someone, completely unrelated to you... will lose a son. Or a daughter."

"So be it, Master."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but a low, unnatural growl rumbled from outside.

They both turned toward the window.

Hundreds of cats were watching them.

<<MIAU.>>

The unison of their voices sent a chill down their spines.

The Master and Margarita staggered backward.

The red cat narrowed its eyes at them, hissing fiercely.

And just like that—all of the cats bolted.

The silence that followed was thick. Suffocating.

Then, from inside the Master's study—

"Mommy... I want to go home."