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Tears turned to an icy pane against my eyes as I raced back up the deck steps and hurried inside the house to grab the rest of my winter gear. I had no choice but to look for her. I would normally take Tara’s car, but the tires were bald and I’d risk a crash.

I glanced at the phone hanging from the kitchen wall, biting down on my ice-cold lip as I tried to think of a plan. I didn’t want to worry Tara or her mother while they visited with family over three hours away. It wasn’t safe for them to drive down now, anyway.

I stared at the phone. My heart thumped between my ribs.

“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath, rocketing forward and yanking the phone off the receiver. I dialed in Reed’s number. He had a truck; he could help me find her.

It rang three times before he picked up. “Hello?”

“Reed? It’s Halley.” My voice cracked, infused with anxiety. “It’s Ladybug. I let her out in the yard. It was only for a few minutes. Less than five. I?—”

“What happened?”

I swallowed hard. “She…she’s gone. She escaped through the fence.”

A beat. “I’ll be right there.”

I didn’t wait for him.

In an instant, I gathered my gloves and a wool cap and dashed out the front door, calling her name through the blizzard. “Ladybug!” I trudged through seven inches of snow, glancing into neighboring yards and across hills. A snowplow drove past slowly as my boots disappeared into mounds of plush white. “Ladybug!”

I was half a mile down the road when two headlights blurred up ahead, moving toward me. A flash of red seeped through the haze.

Reed’s truck.

He slowed down beside me and cracked the window. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Looking for Ladybug.” Tears streamed down my frozen cheeks. “I couldn’t wait. I have to find her.”

“Get in.” He nodded at the passenger’s side.

Tugging my hat farther down my ears, I circled the front of the truck, my feet sliding in the snow, then threw myself into the warm vehicle.

He glanced at me as I buckled my seatbelt. “We’re going to find her.”

All I could do was nod and hold in the sob.

Reed inched us through the neighborhood, both of our heads hanging out each window, the truck hardly going five-miles-per-hour. We shouted her name. Squinted our eyes through the snow, desperate to catch a glimpse of golden fur. Ten minutes later, we pulled up near the park that was walking distance from the house—her favorite place to chase squirrels and rubber balls.

The moment Reed put the truck in Park, I unlatched my belt and dove out of the vehicle.

“Halley!” he called after me, my name followed by a curse of frustration.

I heard him behind me, calling out as I ran full-speed ahead across the playground. “I think she’s here!” I hollered over my shoulder, my words slivered by the wind.

His hand curled around my puffy coat and halted my steps, spinning me around to face him. “Hey. Take a breath.”

I nodded frantically, my eyes wide and worried.

“Keep it together, all right? She didn’t go far. We’ll find her.”

Snowflakes splashed across his dark hair. His grip on me was firm but comforting, his eyes glimmering against the hazy wash of light with earnestness.

I pulled myself together and my nod turned resolute. “Okay,” I said. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

He let me go and we stalked through the woodchips hidden beneath inches of snow. I darted my gaze around the empty park while Reed went in the opposite direction, and we both shouted her name. A few minutes passed, and my terror whirled back, funneling in my chest.

She wasn’t here.

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