HE WAS TEARING THE VEST OFF THE SHIVERING DOG AND DRAGGING HER ACROSS THE SHARP GRAVEL SCREAMING THAT SHE WAS USELESS GARBAGE WHILE I STOOD FROZEN BEHIND MY WINDOW UNABLE TO BREATHE. HE THOUGHT HE WAS THE KING OF THIS NEIGHBORHOOD AND THAT NO ONE HAD THE GUTS TO CHALLENGE HIM UNTIL THE EARTH SEEMED TO SHAKE AS THE MASSIVE FIREFIGHTER NEXT DOOR STEPPED OVER THE FENCE LIKE IT WAS NOTHING AND SILENCED THE RAGE WITH ONE LOOK. I never thought the sound of gravel could make me feel sick, but that afte

HE POINTED A FINGER AT THE SHIVERING BUNDLE OF FUR LEFT TO FREEZE IN THE SLEET, SCREAMING THAT ANIMALS DON'T FEEL THE COLD, BUT HE CHOKED ON HIS OWN SPITE WHEN HE TURNED TO SEE FIFTY OF US STANDING IN SILENCE, WAITING FOR HIM TO MAKE THE WRONG MOVE. The engine of my bike ticked as it cooled, a metallic heartbeat dying out in the freezing rain. That was the only sound for a moment—just the ticking steel and the wind whipping through the skeletal branches of the oaks lining the suburban street. It