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Since she didn’t have a name, I’ve been trying out a few to see what feels most like her.

The rescue agency didn’t have much information about her history, just that she was dropped off on their doorstep one day when she was around six months old.

She’s extremely smart but had been notoriously difficult to adopt due to her inability to bond with people, which is very unlike her breed.

When I walked in and asked to see her, they couldn’t believe the way she instantly took to me.

At that moment, I knew I had to have her. Cute, smart, and terrifying…everything a girl could ask for.

I loaded her in the car, and we set off on our new adventure together.

“Matilda it is,” I say, stroking her muzzle with my thumb. The gesture seems to calm her. She circles once before curling into a tight ball, tucking her nose beneath her leg.

“Well, now that the important things are taken care of…” Greer teases. She may give me a hard time, but I know it’s only because she wants what’s best for me.

Unlike our mother, whose motivations have always been more self-serving.

“So where are you now?” she asks between mouthfuls of chips. My stomach rumbles in jealousy, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.

I squint my eyes, trying to make out the road signs ahead. “Looks like I’ve just entered West Virginia.”

“Sounds like it’s raining pretty hard on you. Do you need me to let you go so you can concentrate on driving?”

I turn the windshield wipers to their maximum speed, peering over at a peacefully sleeping Matilda and praying she doesn’t wake up. “No. I’m fine. It’s just a little shower,” I lie.

“How much further do you have until you make it to Ashford Falls?”

I swipe to the GPS screen to check. “Looks like about two and a half hours. I’m coming up on a bigger city now.”

The two-lane road widens into three, and I squint against the blinding headlights, their glare amplified by the sheets of rain.

Then comes a loud whoosh, immediately followed by a feeling of weightlessness.

The engine revs beneath me, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I crank it to the left.

Nothing.

The tires don’t respond.

“Oh shit.”

What was it we learned in driver’s ed? Into the spin? Pump the brakes? It was over a decade ago, and I had to retake the test three times before I passed. Why the fuck do we expect teenagers to retain this information without giving them a refresher?

“Kira? What’s wrong?”

I let out a scream, which wakes Matilda from her nap. She lifts her head and immediately loses her shit when she realizes the windshield wipers are back.

Pouring rain pelts against my windshield, making it impossible to see as the car jerks into a tailspin, the back whipping us around, and I’ve never been more thankful to be on an empty highway.

“Oh my God, what’s happening? Are you okay?” Greer screams, and it’s only then that I realize Matilda stopped barking. She must’ve realized this isn’t time for her petty feud. And Greer said she wasn’t smart…

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my foot off the gas, holding the steering wheel steady to keep from overcorrecting. We lose momentum as we spin a few more times, and I feel the tires regain traction as we screech to a halt on the shoulder of the highway.

Several seconds pass as Matilda and I sit frozen in silence, both staring forward like we’re aware that we just brushed hands with death.

“Kira? Are you okay?” Greer asks again, and I can hear the terror in her trembling voice.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” I squeak out, my heart hammering in my chest.