Murphy watched the exchange with mild interest, his tail wagging in slow, deliberate arcs. His earlier wariness had dissolved into a kind of reluctant acceptance of this new houseguest.

Carefully, I stood and made my way to the kitchen, Murphy trailing behind. A quick search through the cupboard yielded a can of tuna, which I emptied into a shallow dish. It wasn’t quite cat food, but it would do for now.

Setting the dish on the floor, I watched as the cat approached, gave it a tentative sniff, and then began to eat with delicate, measured bites. I marveled at how quickly the night had shifted from unsettling to unexpectedly charming, thanks to this mysterious visitor.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, I knew I would have to find out where this cat belonged. But for now, it seemed content, and so did Murphy. Together, we sat in companionable silence, our unplanned morning adventure bonding us in an unexpected way.