19. Marisol
Marisol
T he thought of coffee was the only thing that got her out of bed. Slipping on her fuzzy pink slippers, Marisol grabbed her robe and headed into the kitchen. The fancy but complicated machine sat out on her counter with a sticky note from Mrs. Baker on how to run it.
After a minute of fumbling through the instructions, she finally managed to get the coffee machine working.
The soft hum and slow drip of brewing coffee filled the quiet kitchen, a welcome promise of caffeine.
Letting out a small sigh, she rubbed the last traces of sleep from her eyes and turned toward the pantry.
Snowball’s breakfast was next on the list. She reached for the bag of cat food, shaking it lightly as she stepped back.
The absence of her feline companion in bed that morning hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Snowball was probably curled up on the couch, basking in a patch of sunlight, completely unbothered by the world waking up around her.
“Snowball! Time to eat,” she called and popped open the can. Last time that had been enough for Snowball to come running into the kitchen, meowing her head off. Marisol barely had time to put her bowl down before Snowball attacked it.
This morning was different.
Snowball didn’t come running in. She didn’t dance around Marisol’s feet or meow her annoyance because Marisol was taking too long to prepare her food.
“Snowball?” she called again, this time walking into the living room. She quickly scanned the room, but no signs of Snowball. Was the window open wider than it was last night?
Cold fear and dread froze her body as she took a step closer to the window, looking out at the balcony.
She remembered cracking it last night, but just enough to let in a breeze.
She would remember if the window was a third of the way up.
Something had to have pushed it up…or a certain cat who managed to wiggle underneath and run free.
Fuck.
Dread pooled low in her belly. This couldn’t be happening.
She stepped away from the window and looked in every spot Snowball usually hung out in.
Her bed, the couch, the litter box, food bowl, and even her closet.
For an hour, she ripped through her house, not caring about the mess she left in her wake.
Each corner she turned or small alcove she searched, she hoped Snowball would be lounging lazily, oblivious to her manic search.
“Snowball!” she cried out in frustration, stubborn tears she could no longer control rolling down from her eyes.
Snowball was gone.
And there was only one reason for that. Because she was fucking stupid and opened the window last night. Once again proving she thought of no one else but herself. She crumbled to the floor, heartbroken.
What made her think she was capable of caring for and loving Snowball when she couldn’t care for herself and failed as a big sister? It was clear to everyone but her that she was a shitty caretaker and had no business trying to fill that role. It backfired every time.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, scaring her out of her dark thoughts. She had half a mind to ignore it, but something made her look to see who was calling her. Cisco’s name flashed across the screen, and she held back a sob.
Her thumb skated over the answer button and pressed down. Marisol brought it up to her ear, but she couldn’t find the words. Each time she opened her mouth, a sob threatened to escape.
“Marisol?” Cisco’s worried voice came from the other end. “Princesa, are you there? What’s wrong?”
The dam shattered at his words, raw and filled with concern. He fucking cared. He was worried about her. No one had ever cared before. Not like this.
She had spent a lifetime having her feelings overlooked, her struggles dismissed, her pain unseen.
She had learned to endure, to carry it all alone because there was never anyone to share the weight.
But now, faced with genuine care, with someone who actually saw her, she didn’t know how to hold herself together.
So, she didn’t.
The walls she had carefully built crumbled, and all she could do was break down.
There was some rustling on the other side, and Cisco cursed. “I’m coming over. Unlock your door, Princesa. I’ll be there in ten. Stay on the phone with me. You don’t have to talk.”
She heard the sound of a car unlocking, followed by a door closing. He was really on his way to her .
Marisol managed to pick herself off the floor. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision as she made her way to the front door. With a click, the front door was unlocked for Cisco.
Eight minutes later, she got a text from the front office about a visitor and cleared Cisco to come up.
A few moments after that, she heard urgent footsteps coming down the hall, followed by her door swinging open.
Cisco stood there, eyes wide, with damp hair as if he had recently gotten out of the shower to rush over here.
Marisol could only imagine what he thought about the scene before him. Her red-rimmed, puffy eyes were full of tears. Her house was in shambles, everything out of place, tossed thoughtlessly to the ground, and furniture overturned in her haste to find Snowball.
Cisco said something in Spanish she didn’t understand but didn’t sound good.
In three long strides, he crossed the room and took her into his arms. She didn’t fight; Marisol melted into his embrace.
She couldn’t produce any more tears, but the impending doom fell over her, casting darkness all around her.
“What happened here? Marisol, are you hurt?” Cisco pulled back enough to search her body, looking for any wounds. He probably thought this was a damn home invasion for how disastrous she left her house. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that.
“Snowball…” she finally managed to croak out. “She’s gone.”
A tiny flicker of relief passed through Cisco before his body tensed again. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Do you think I normally keep my house looking like this?” she snapped and instantly regretted it. “Sorry…I didn’t mean…I’m just… ”
“No apologies necessary. I’ll help you find her. Is she chipped?”
“I…don’t know. I didn’t ask.” Stupid, Marisol, stupid, she chastised herself. “But…” She quickly got out her phone and opened her text from last night. She found Stella’s number and sent her a hasty text asking if Snowball was chipped.
A few minutes later her phone chimed with a text.
Yes. Everything okay?
She’s missing.
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 to her . 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 to move, 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.