The adage "life makes sense in hindsight" is apt. I often wonder if I had found someone else instead of the girl, would things have unfolded in the same way? I am yet to find a satisfactory answer to that. If you ever find one, let me know.

Anyway, I woke up the next morning and found that the pain in my neck had worsened. For some reason, it felt like wholesome pain. The moment was shattered when I noticed that the bed was empty. I glanced at the spot where I had spotted her yesterday.

She doesn't remember me, I told myself. Suddenly, I felt that life was unfair to me. A bit of warmth, is that too much to ask?

I got to my feet and reached for a stack of books that she had yet to scan for whatever she was looking for. I placed it on the bed. 'I know you're looking for something. Why don't you continue?'

Tentatively, she rose to her feet, her eyes still keen as a hawk's, and walked toward the bed. While she was doing so, she wrung the hem of her worn-out dress. I found myself thinking: She could use a new one.

The stray thought struck me like thunder.

She isn't even my child... she isn't even my anything. Then why? Why did I want to buy her a new dress?

She has her own family out there who'd do the same. I was just redundant. Once she found her family, she would forget me, so what was the point?

I should focus on finding her family. She'd be happy then.

'Go brush your teeth. I've got an extra there.' There was an edge in my tone that made her go still as a statue. It broke my heart, but for our sake, I needed to maintain some distance from her, lest both of us end with broken hearts.

Good thing she has forgotten all about yesterday.

I cooked three portions while she brushed her teeth. One for me, two for her--- breakfast and lunch--- since I was planning to leave for the day to look for her family. I needed some time to think without her pitiful face in sight. I feared I might change my mind if I looked at it too long.

When I returned, she was sitting on the bed, with messy hair, boring holes in her eyes into the stack of books that she'd separated the previous night. She was probably wondering why she'd kept that there. When I heard my footsteps, her eyes took me in. They lacked the spark that should've been there.

Once again, I thought if I should keep a distance between us. I wanted to do right by her.

All in all, being around her was confusing. Her presence pulled the rug from under my feet.

We ate quietly, and I kept myself from looking at her. The two of us stayed in our own bubbles.

'Do you want to come with me?' I finally managed to pop mine. 'We can look for your family?'

As expected, she ignored me and continued to do whatever she was doing with her books. I left the place shortly after that.

I wandered around, unable to do anything that I intended to do. I had merely left for two hours before I returned.

She was standing outside, playing with something round and orange. I was dumbstruck for a moment, thinking if I was seeing things. Did she plan on leaving? I recollected what I'd said yesterday.

She spotted me and clutched the furry thing against her chest as though I would snatch it from her.

It was a freaking cat.

She was holding a cat.

'What are you doing here?' I barked. 'It's not safe here.'

She pleadingly looked at me.

I guess we had a telepathic connection because I knew what she was saying. It was: Can we keep it?

Pets were like children; you had to raise them right. I disliked the idea of another being occupying my space, but under her imploring gaze, I grudgingly relented. Of course, being an adult, I added the usual terms. 'We can keep it, but if you stop running around and take all the responsibility to clean after it.'

I realize that I have yet to name the girl. I'll call her Child, since she'll be my temporary companion along with the cat.

By now, it was clear to me that I should be polite with her if I wanted her to stay.

She had a skip in her step as we returned. At least someone is happy, I thought.

The cat's body was round, held up by disproportionately tiny limbs. The name on its collar was Tabby. I'll call it Flabby simply because I disliked it.

Child was so fascinated by it that she abandoned her search and played with Flabby... on the bed! I was disgusted. Sleeping on it would be difficult. My bed ceased to be mine from the moment I brought Child there. I'm a fool, I said to myself, feeling despondent.

Thankfully, Flabby knew where it was appreciated. It evaded me as much as I evaded it. I was only responsible for providing it with a bowl of milk.

I was relieved that I had given up on the idea of buying a fish for a pet. Flabby would have devoured it, leaving me crestfallen.

I watched her stroke the cat's belly with her hand. 'We'll call it Flabby,' I declared. 'That's what it says on the collar.' It was a lie, but I just wanted to know whether she could read. If she indeed did know, she would be enraged and rise to defend Flabby's honor.

She gave me a response for the first time.

She nodded.

She can't read, I said to myself. Then what was she searching the books for?