Judy Hale's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The lion lifts its head and sniffs the air. Its ears swivel forward. Then it stands in one smooth motion and bolts down the street, silent except for the click of claws on cracked pavement. The sunflower slips from Judy's hands as she scrambles to her feet. She runs after it. The lion leaves a trail of glowing sand behind it, orange and red specks that fade into the air like embers. Judy's lungs burn but she keeps running. She clutches the locket around her neck — the one she wore the day she died, the one Rayne gave her that last summer — and uses the pain in her chest to push harder. The lion turns a corner and she follows, her shoes slapping against pavement that cracks wider with each step. The trail of sand suddenly stops in the middle of an empty plaza. The lion is gone. Judy spins in a circle, searching, but there's nothing except the fading glow of sand specks settling on the ground. Her breath comes in ragged gasps. She let go of the sunflower and now she's lost the only thing that knew where to go. The plaza is silent. No movement. No guide. Then she sees it — a second sunflower growing through a crack in the concrete at the exact spot where the sand trail ended. She kneels and touches the petals. They're warm. The lion didn't abandon her. It brought her exactly where she needed to be next. She picks the flower and stands, looking at the buildings around the plaza with new eyes. Rayne left more than one marker. Judy just has to learn how to see them.