It seemed like Skye was always running. Before moving to Keystone Stables, she ran for fun, for the thril of the chase, just to see if she could get away. Back then she didn’t care if she got sent to Chesterfield or any other lockup. Her rotten life was worthless anyhow. But this time it was different. She was running away from Champ. Skye huddled next to a dumpster at a pavilion nestled between budding maple trees at the city park. She continued to pant, not only from running twenty blocks in the May sun but also from the fear that now gripped her heart. This time running was no joke. She had too much at stake, and if she could undo it al she would. “Stupid, stupid!” Pounding her forehead, Skye agonized over her latest stunt. She pul ed her knees to her chest and focused on a bal field hugged by a chain link fence and bil boards. She pictured Robin running around the bases after smashing a softbal over the fence. Why can’t I be like her? Skye asked herself.
