Winter Sky Read Online Free PDF

near the roof.
    Siria almost felt sorry for George Washington—the top of his head had turned into a pigeon’s nest, and a mess of white bird gloop made one shoulder a couple of inches higher than the other.
    Past the school, she could see the shed roof. If only she could talk to Pop. But it would be the end of her fire chasing. She’d be up all night, sitting at the window worrying about him.
    No, she had to work on this herself.
    “What’s the matter?” Laila asked.
    Siria shook her head. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of green cloth. “I found this.”
    Laila ran her hands over it. “From someone’s jacket?” She shook her head. “I’ve seen it before. I almost know …”
    But they were at the firehouse now, reading the sign on the door: CAT FOUND in Izzy’s bold printing. DESPERATE FOR A HOME.
    Jesse poured hot apple cider while the cat, tailheld high, jumped up into the open door of the rescue engine. She padded around the jacks and air guns that could slice through metal until she found an empty spot and folded herself into a ball.
    “Want a kitten?” Jesse asked from the stove.
    “I’m allergic,” Laila said. “To cats. To dogs. Sorry.”
    Siria looked down at the carrot cupcake Jesse had put in front of her. Laila allergic! She couldn’t help with the dog even if she wanted to.
    Izzy swooped down to sit at the table. She poured her own cider and leaned back. “I never had a cat.” She ran her hands through her long thick hair. “Just for now, until someone gives her a home, I’m calling her Smoky.”
    It would be great to have a cat, but Siria knew Pop would never say yes to a real pet. “The most I could deal with,” he’d said once, “are hermit crabs and a couple of guppies.”
    How could you count them as pets? They just hung around in aquariums, not paying attention to anyone outside their world. How could you hug a hermit crab?
    Siria looked around the table at the firefighters. What would they think if they knew about the shed fire? And that whoever started that fire might have started the movie fire, too? How would they feel about Siria’s not telling?
    On her way out, Siria reached into the front seatof the rescue truck to touch the sleeping cat, its face hidden in its thick tail. Siria looked back at Izzy. “That was a great rescue.”
    “My specialty.” Izzy winked.
    By the time Siria and Laila reached their building, a stinging snow had begun, almost sleet, pattering over the streets and sidewalks. Laila shuffled her feet in the snow. “I’ve just decided. I’m going to ask for a couple of fish in a tank. Not as good as a horse, but they’ll be happy when I feed them.”
    “They will,” Siria said.
    “I’m going to ask for a trip to the Rocky Mountains, too.” Laila grinned. “I’ll get a trip to my aunt’s house in Delaware instead. Almost as good.”
    Inside, Siria left Laila on the sixth floor and went up to her own kitchen. Pop was napping because he’d be working later tonight, and she opened the cabinets quietly, trying not to wake him.
    She stared at the shelves. She’d never had a dog. What did dogs eat, anyway? Probably not red beets, or baked beans, original or home-style. And certainly not a jar of applesauce or peaches.
    The dog would probably eat anything, but it wasn’t fair to give him something that might make him sick. Siria leaned her head against the cabinet. If only she hadn’t read Mom’s story about Orion.
    She reached into the grocery-money cup and scooped out a bunch of change. She’d buy somethingsuitable for a ravenous dog. On a bitter snowy day like this, he might be in the basement. She put a can opener in her pocket and went outside.
    A moving truck was parked at the front door, and two guys were lugging a couch outside. Their hair was covered with snow, and so was the couch. It was probably from apartment 5-E.
    Inside Trencher’s, Christmas music blared:
“Walking in a winter wonderland …”
    Jason