At 6 p.m., it rained. Mrs. Titi still hadn't arrived.
At 7 p.m., the lights went out. The power was down.
Aziz lit a candle. His four cats huddled under the table, their tails puffed up.
_Tap... tap... tap..._
From the back room.
"Aziz... it's been three days. I can come home with you now, right?" a girl asked Aziz.
It was Tina's voice. This time, it came from in front of Aziz's bedroom door.
Aziz gripped a broom. His hands trembled. "Who are you?" he asked.
Tina knew Aziz was afraid. "I'm Tina. I'm lonely. Kanti's lonely too. Let's just play here, okay...? Just play..." Tina replied.
The bedroom door shook, as if something were pushing it from the other side.
Ruby suddenly leaped at the door and clawed at it. Charcoal followed. The two of them hissed as if fighting something.
Aziz remembered something. His mother had once told him, "If someone asks to come home with you, don't answer. Don't open the door. Give them another way out."
Aziz grabbed Kanti's cardboard box and opened the back-room door.
It was empty. But the cold pierced his bones. In the middle of the floor, wet footprints led toward the window.
Aziz opened the window wide. Rain blew inside.
"This is the way out, Tina. Go home. Take Kanti with you."
A strong wind rushed in. The candle went out.
From the darkness came the sound of a child's laughter... then crying... then silence.
Inside the box, Kanti let out a soft meow. Her tail swished.
Mrs. Titi arrived at 9 p.m., soaked through.
"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Aziz. I got a flat tire."
She picked up Kanti. "Thanks for taking care of her."
Aziz only nodded, too afraid to say anything.
After that night, Aziz's house returned to normal. There were no more scratching sounds. No more footprints.
But something was still wrong.
First, his four cats never went into the back room again. They all slept in the living room.
Then he found a long strand of hair caught on the wooden yo-yo. A child's hair.
After that, Aziz still woke up every night at 2 a.m. Not because of a sound, but because someone was sitting at the foot of his bed. The weight remained for several seconds. Then it vanished.
Aziz continued working as a cat sitter. He still accepted cats for boarding.
But he wrote a new rule on the door:
"NO CATS WITH FRIENDS ALLOWED."
The neighbors asked why.
Aziz only smiled. "Just so things don't get too crowded."
It was raining again tonight.
Aziz sat on the porch with his four cats. Ruby was in his lap, Snow beside him, and Charcoal and Ace at his feet.
In the distance, at the end of the alley, he saw a child in white clothes. The child was carrying a gray cat.
The child waved at Aziz. Then walked toward the old cemetery at the end of the road.
Aziz didn't wave back. He stroked Ruby's head.
"That's enough. We're staying home." Aziz felt that something was defying logic, as if an astral being were disturbing his peace of mind.
Lightning flashed, making the scene terrifying. For a split second, Aziz saw a small shadow peeking out from the back-room window.
Aziz trembled and broke into a sweat. He was afraid and couldn't relax. The atmosphere was unbearably tense. He couldn't find any ghostly figure, but something terrifying seemed intent on tormenting him. He shuddered at once, as if cornered by the quiet, frightening situation. He locked every door, terrified, his heart pounding wildly as paranoia took hold. It seemed like something was always haunting Aziz. He wasn't just taking care of cats anymore; he felt as if he were trapped in a terrifying horror scene—and he really didn't like it.
Aziz leaned back for a moment. Being a cat sitter was tiring, but the most exhausting part was when one of his patients... refused to go home.