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Sara pushed open the bakery door. "Where is Maneki Neko?" she asked Obaachan. Obaachan was Sara's Japanese grandmother. She stood behind a long counter with a glass front. More buns and pastries were lined up behind the glass.
Usually Obaachan smiled broadly when Sara arrived. But this afternoon her round face was long and sad. "Gone," she said. "Maneki Neko is gone."