Kayla gasped for air, her lungs burning like a roaring furnace. She knew if she stopped now, she may not see Bailey again. The little dog had leaped over the fence when the fireworks erupted like a sky full of crackling stars and took off down the street. He obviously did not care for the fireworks, as his tiny heart raced with fear. Kayla turned the corner onto AppleCare Avenue, her pulse echoing in her ears, when she heard a sound—soft and persistent, like the gentle patter of raindrops dancing against pavement. She stood still, straining to listen for Bailey. Sure enough, she heard a few small thuds coming from the Jacksons' open garage.
Kayla walked toward the Jacksons' house, her feet moving as if pulled by invisible strings. A moment later, Mrs. Jackson appeared on the front walk, holding Bailey—his floppy ears perked up as if they were tiny sails catching the wind. "Thank you so much," said Kayla, her relief spilling over like a waterfall. "I’ve been chasing him!"
"Well, I don’t blame him for running," Mrs. Jackson replied with a chuckle, handing the dog back to Kayla. "Those loud sounds have been driving me up the wall too." Kayla cradled Bailey to her chest, feeling his warmth seep into her skin as she walked home, determined to keep him from squirming away again. The sky was quiet now, a delicate silence that felt almost like a whisper after the chaos of the evening.
Once they were back inside the fortress of their home, safe from the world outside, Kayla gently placed Bailey in his dog bed. He settled down with a contented sigh, as if the bed were a cloud, the battles of the night forgotten.
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