<<Cock-a-doodle-doo.>>

Margarita had been awake for a couple of hours.

Sometimes, it was the sound of the cat's little claws that would wake her, but this morning, she had stirred without even hearing the animal.

"Had it disappeared already?"

<<Cock-a-doodle-doo.>>

She sat up.

Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, making a peculiar noise with her cheek, she tried to call the feline.

Nothing.

She clicked again.

Nothing.

The mist had crept into the house once more, but it didn't stop her from lowering her feet to the ground and kneeling to check under the bed.

—Psst, psst... Cat?

She searched every corner and finally understood: it was gone.

For good.

She washed up as best she could, dabbed some perfume under her arms, and when she reached for the doorknob, she noticed the skin on her fingers—raw, flayed, stripped down to flesh. Dirty with soil, as if she'd been digging in the garden.

She scrubbed her hands clean and ran out the door.

Dawn was breaking, and the first light of the east bathed her face in a pale glow.

"LUIS!" she thought, her mind calling out to him, desperate.

—Magos?

—Hello, Leonora —she answered, distressed.

—What happened to your hands, woman? —Remedios asked from behind.

Margarita flinched, startled.

—You're on edge, dear. Come with us, we'll make you some linden tea to calm your nerves. I never noticed your eyes were green.

—Green? Her eyes?

—Sorry, Leo, I can't. Another time.

Hurriedly, Margarita muttered a half-hearted farewell, barely acknowledging her friends, and set off toward the city center.

She reached Las Ratas Street, number four, and knocked three times, then once more. She meant to knock a fifth time, but her strength drained from her arm, and instead, the sound came out strange—like she had scratched the door with her knuckles.

The door swung open.

The young apprentice gestured for her to enter.

—The master is waiting for you in his study.

Margarita stepped into the dimly lit room.

The master greeted her.

—I want to find my son —she said, swallowing her desperation.

—Has the cat disappeared?

—Yes. First, it left. But just when I thought it was truly gone, it would meow outside and show me what it had caught.

—Offerings of life and death.

—Master, forgive me, but I only want my son.

—He is very close, señora. Now, listen carefully. You will return home. Search the soil in your garden, around the house. Buried beneath it, you will find the cat.

Margarita swallowed.

—When you find it, the rest will be revealed. As soon as you dig it up, take a glass, turn it upside down, place it in a cupboard or on a shelf in your home, and read aloud, with absolute conviction, the words I have written on this note.

—...

"The rest?"
"Revealed?"
"A note?"

The master handed her a folded piece of paper. Then, he simply looked at her.

The other woman opened the study door and led her toward the exit, holding the door open to the street.

And with a string of curses swirling in her mind, Margarita walked away.