>She ran until the soles of her boots came loose.
>Just around this corner, she thought to herself, falling into a sloppy gait.
>At last, Anon’s porch. She fell and sat on the porch stairs, catching her breath.
>The rifle fell down the steps. She didn’t pick it up.
>The lights are off. Not a sound coming from inside. The windows were intact, but had the blinds closed.
>She thought of every possibility, every way Anon could’ve died, gone missing, or escaped without her.
>Her leg started to bounce. It hurt each time.
>The clouds parted, and a full moon washed over her tan fur.
>She stood up and knocked on the door.
>No answer.
>She tried the doorbell.
>Not a word.
>She couldn’t look inside.
>The door flew open.
>She found herself staring down the barrel of a handgun, and threw her hands up.
>”Stop!”
>”Adelaide?”