She hightails it out of that concept restaurant—that’s how the woman reacts to the rapist’s lies, she flees the scene, not stopping to collect her credit card or settle her tab—and she methodically paces the streets of the Mission District, east on one street, west on another, as though she’s the camera-mapping car for the world’s most popular search engine. She finds herself in front of a loft where it’s still possible to trace the outline of JOB CREATORS if you know what to look for, and she finds herself in the elevator, and then she finds herself detaching the key from under the rapist’s welcome mat and entering the rapist’s apartment, where she is decidedly not welcome. The woman crawls completely naked into the rapist’s bed, where this saga began, and the rapist’s dog jumps into bed with her and licks her face. The rapist’s dog nestles against her stomach, and the mammalian comfort is so nice, and the woman hasn’t felt affection since she can’t remember when, that the woman falls asleep.

“The homeless situation in this city is gross. I wish we had laws that made it illegal to be homeless.” The woman wakes to the rapist’s girlfriend complaining as they enter the rapist’s rapeloft. Okay, the rapist’s girlfriend is awful, which makes the woman feel a little bit better, but then she’s overwhelmed by her predicament. She’s dressing herself like her life depends on it, which it very well could, since the rapist’s girlfriend cries, “I know who you are!” and whips out her phone from her purse like a gun from its holster and starts recording. The rapist, for his part, is backing away like he’s just encountered the Mountain View mountain lion. It was a mistake for the woman to not tell her story to the rapist’s girlfriend. Now the rapist gets to control the narrative. This moment is likely her opportunity to rally all her courage and make the accusation, “Rapist!” But instead the woman is stumbling away in shame from this place one more time, the last time, though not before hearing the rapist’s girlfriend’s threat.

“Just remember, I can show this to the cops. Or I can upload this footage of you wherever I want.”

The Mountain View mountain lion has been all but forgotten except by the woman. Weeks without sightings mean that other cat memes have replaced her in the online collective consciousness. The woman senses that the Mountain View mountain lion is a she. She could have been trapped and released somewhere far away. Or someone could have shot her when she wandered onto their property. Or someone else could have poisoned scraps of meat to destroy her from the inside, but somehow the woman also senses that the Mountain View mountain lion is alive. While the woman gets rid of the usual horrors, waiting for the arrival in her screaming panel of the rapist’s girlfriend’s uproariously humorous and humiliating clip of the woman panicking while in the buff, she types into the world’s most popular search engine, Why do we ruin everything that’s good? On a collaborative questions-and-answers site, someone responded, The same reason we want to spoil a field of freshly fallen snow.