Chapter Ten: The Lost Puppy

"Fuck! Where the hell did he go?" His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he cursed under his breath. His thoughts raced as he drove back toward the university, heart pounding. He had to find Chippy. The little guy had slipped away from him earlier, and now, he was nowhere to be found. He had driven through the streets, retracing his steps, desperate to spot any sign of the small brown poodle.

He pulled his car to the side of the road with a screeching halt. His eyes scanned the area as he mentally mapped out the places he had already checked. Then, he saw them.

There, in the distance, just beyond the gates of the university, he spotted her.

Her.

She was holding Chippy. His little pet, his responsibility. His eyes lingered on the way her fingers gently stroked the dog’s soft brown fur. His breath caught in his throat, but his instinct told him it wasn’t the right time to make his presence known.

He froze for a moment, watching them, a battle raging in his mind. Part of him wanted to rush forward, claim his pet, take him away. But another part—one that was more patient, more thoughtful—held him back. He realized that Chippy was in safe hands. She seemed to care for him, and that brought a strange sense of relief. But a nagging worry still tugged at his chest. Could she handle him? Chippy had a wild streak, always getting into trouble. What if she couldn’t keep up with him?

After a long moment of deliberation, he finally exhaled deeply. Chippy is fine, he thought to himself. She’ll take care of him.

Still, the uncertainty remained.

---

Meanwhile, in the parking lot:

She heard a faint squeaking sound behind her car as she approached the parking lot. A chill ran down her spine, and she flinched, suddenly feeling paranoid, thinking that someone was following her.

When she turned around, she found a small brown poodle, with big hazel eyes, licking her toes as she stood there in her four-inch sandals.

Her heart skipped a beat as the fear melted away. She had been wrong. It wasn’t a stalker—it was just a lost puppy.

Before she could process what was happening, she had already dialed Jean’s phone number.

“What happened to you when you called me in an emergency?” Jean’s voice came rushing through the phone. She was already by her side, breathless from running.

“I thought someone was following me,” she admitted, still feeling the rush of anxiety. “I was just being paranoid… all these letters from Mr. Smith have me on edge.”

She wasn’t afraid of him. Not exactly. But the thought of meeting him in person—of finally confronting the source of these mysterious notes—made her nervous. It might trigger memories she couldn’t quite place.

Jean teased her, “Do I need to hire a bodyguard for you? Just say the word, and I’ll get you one. I’ve got the cash.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m not ready for that encounter with my secret admirer. Maybe that’s why I’m being paranoid.”

She turned back to the little puppy, who had been licking her toes enthusiastically. An idea struck her. She could adopt him.

Jean raised an eyebrow. “What if he has an owner?”

“Well, if he does, he’ll have to go back to them,” she reasoned, “but for now, I’m taking him home. I’ll call him Choco, because his eyes remind me of chocolate hazelnut.”

As they were about to head to the car, Choco suddenly darted off, chasing a red BMW sports car that zoomed by. She couldn’t catch the car in time to get the plate number, but she thought she saw the last two digits.

She couldn’t help but wonder if the car’s driver was his owner. But there was no way to know for sure.

“Don’t worry, Choco,” she said softly, “we’ll figure this out.”

After Choco calmed down and returned to her arms, she decided to take him home. Jean went back to the university to continue her classes, though she had been worried about her friend after the phone call.

When they arrived at their house, Choco curled up comfortably on the sofa, exhausted. She fell asleep beside him, too, her thoughts still swirling with the mystery of the little dog—and of Mr. Smith, her secret admirer.

---

Later that night...

“Where have you been, Cara? I’ve been looking for you all day.”

She closed her eyes, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she recognized his voice. It’s him.

“I’m not gone,” she whispered back, her heart heavy with longing. “But I’ve been looking for you in the real world.”

“Don’t be sad,” he reassured her, his voice filled with warmth. “I’ll always be here in your dreams. Someday, I’ll come to meet you in the real world.”

But she wasn’t so sure. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like a distant fantasy—something too good to be true. And yet... he was real to her.

She woke up, feeling a wave of disappointment. Maybe I’m just imagining all of this. She tried to push him from her mind, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget him. The man in her dreams kept coming back to her, night after night.

As she got up from bed, she noticed something missing. Choco. Her new furry friend was nowhere to be found.

She rushed around the house, searching high and low, but there was no sign of him. The gate outside was closed, so he couldn’t have gone out.

Just as she was about to give up, a strange noise came from the backyard. Her heart leapt, and she called out for him, “Choco! Come here, buddy. I have food for you.”

Still, there was no response. Where could he be?

She set a bowl of dog food and milk by the door, hoping the smell would draw him out. But he didn’t come. Just as she was about to go back inside, she spotted him.

Choco came trotting toward her, his mouth full of something small and green. At first, she couldn’t tell what it was, but when he dropped it in front of her, she realized it was a cracked egg. Inside the egg was a note.

Another message. And it was from someone she didn’t know but the name repeatedly appeared and confused her mind.