The wind had been rattling the windows since supper. Mira barely noticed the sticky note on the fridge in Mom's handwriting: Mr. Patel called. Koda got out again! She was too busy losing at cards to her little brother, Eli.
At 8:14, the lights died.
Eli grabbed her sleeve. "Mira?"
"It's fine," she said, though her own voice sounded thin. Grandma was asleep upstairs, and Mom's shift at the hospital didn't end until midnight. Mira found the flashlight in the junk drawer. Its beam was weak and yellow, flickering like a tired candle.
Then came the sound. Scratch. Scratch. Something was at the back door.
"Is it a bear?" Eli whispered.
Mira's heart pounded. All her life, she had been the one who hid under the blankets during storms. But now Eli was looking at her the way she used to look at Mom.
She took a breath, crossed the kitchen and pulled back the curtain.
Two pale blue eyes stared back. A grey-and-white tail thumped against the snow.
"Koda!" Mira laughed, and the laugh chased the fear right out of her. She let the shivering husky in, wrapped him in a towel and called Mr. Patel.
When the power came back an hour later, Eli was asleep against the dog. Mira switched off the flashlight. She didn't need it anymore.