The snow made Cyrus’s boots and jeans soggy as he dashed through the three inches of snow on the ground.
Columns of snow blew in his face and he had to keep wiping sweat and frosty tears from his eyes. It was so cold, the tears on his cheek froze.
Freaking lake effect snow. During a regular spring, summer, or autumn day, he could have run a block in a minute. Now, it was taking him five.
The darkened streets of Logan Square seemed to ignore Cyrus, like all the buildings were turning their backs to him, offering nothing with their blackened windows and shadowed facades.
He was cold. Wet. Scared.
It dawned on him that he might never see his sister again. The last time he’d ever see her was her sitting on the couch, yawning and talking to his mom.
He wouldn’t let this be the end. He wou
