"Baxter!" I yelled, fumbling to throw on a pair of clogs as I chased after him. I didn't even stop to put on a jacket.
He slipped through a gap in the wooden fence at the back of the yard — the one Lily used to squeeze through during summer to play in the empty lot next door. I hadn't thought about that lot in months. We always said we'd put up a real barrier, but we never got around to it.
I followed, breathless, sweater clenched in one hand. The air smelled of wet leaves and distant rain. I hadn't been beyond that fence in years.
I didn't even stop
to put on a jacket.
Continued on the next page
