Mirror in the Sky by Aditi Khorana Read Free Book Online Page B

out his name, take him back home. But he was in unfamiliar territory, trying to find something that might anchor him.
    I ran faster, and as he saw me approaching, he seemed to think we were playing a game of tag and turned and ran up ahead of me.
    â€œSTOP!” I yelled. “Seriously, I can’t run that fast!” I was already overwhelmed with regret that I didn’t grab him when I had the chance.
    He was running so fast that he was just a blur of black zipping across the street and around the bend. And then I heard it. The shrill screech of tires, a horn, a thud, and a gasp—my own. I ran even faster now, my feet pounding the pavement, my heart racing.
    My brain didn’t make the connection right away. At first, I thought it was a black blanket accidentally strewn in the middle of the road. But then the blanket moved and made asound, causing me to cry out. I ran to the middle of the intersection. Cars honked. The light turned yellow, then red. It was instinct—the way people describe saving their infants by lifting boulders. I threw off my satchel and reached for the dog, cradling its head in my lap, listening to its wheezing breath, my heart racing so fast I could barely think.
    His fur was damp and hot, and when I lifted my hand, it was covered with blood. I tore off my cardigan, wrapping it around the dog’s body, but within seconds it was soaked through. Everything was happening too fast. I needed time to slow down so I could think, so I could figure out what to do. I looked at the dog’s collar. “Mario,” it said.
    â€œMario. It’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” I cried into his eyes. He whimpered, trying to move his paw, but it was trembling as though he had no control of it. I reached for it, holding it tight in my fist.
    â€œI know you’re scared,” I whispered to him. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to take care of you.” I had never before felt such a desperate instinct to go back in time, to undo what had already been done. A few seconds, a loose grip on a collar, the light turning green instead of yellow—if only I had thought quicker, moved faster . . .
Stop it, Tara
, I told myself.
Focus on now
. Mario whimpered in my lap, squirming in pain.
    â€œOh my God, that’s Halle’s dog!” I heard a panicked voice. It was Nick’s. He had left his car—a green Jeep—in the middle of the road, and he was crouching next to me now. “I saw who did it. I think it was Sarah Hoffstedt. She was in that red Porsche, just sped off, I can’t believe it!” His voice was strained,and his face was florid. He placed a hand on my back. “Are you okay?”
    â€œWe need to get help!” I cried.
    â€œI don’t think he’s . . .”
    â€œHe’s breathing! We need to call a vet, or 911, someone, something!” I said. Tears were beginning to stream down my face. Already, my cardigan matched the color of Nick’s rust-colored bag.
    â€œOkay. I’m calling right now.”
    I looked at Mario’s eyes. They were glassy.
    â€œLet’s get you out of this intersection,” I said to him, but when I tried to move him, he yelped in pain.
    â€œYou’re going to be okay,” I said, trying to comfort him, but my words came out garbled, my tone high. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of Mario, like he was some sort of extension of me.
    I could hear Nick on the phone behind me, his voice frantic.
    â€œHello? Please! We need help!
    â€œI’m at the intersection of Hillside and the Post Road.
    â€œNo! No, it’s not a person, it’s a dog! Just a dog!”
    Nick sat down beside me on the road, cars circling around us.
    Eventually, the ASPCA came in a white van. A young vet, clean-shaven, looking not too much older than us, jumped out and nervously took notes on a clipboard.
    â€œIs it your pet, sir?”
    â€œNo, he’s my