You Are Here by Liz Fichera

with the smell of hay, dirt and two dozen horses. Marisela stayed a breath behind me, as if we were creeping into a haunted house instead of a dusty barn filled with horses, one pony, a goat and it was anyone’s guess as to the number of stray kittens.
    My free hand brushed against the stalls. Each one had a painted handmade sign in black letters. I cooed a greeting to each horse as we passed.
    Penny.
    Chief.
    Rowdy.
    Cisco. His snout lifted in the air as we passed, followed by a soft whinny.
    “Good boy,” I whispered to him. “How’ve you been?” I wished I had a treat. Cisco loved apples—green ones, to be exact. The only thing I could do was pat his neck when he stuck his head over the stall in greeting.
    “Who are you? Doctor Dolittle?” Marisela hissed behind me, stretching away from Cisco’s curious wet nose as far as her neck would allow while still clutching my arm.
    I bit back a nervous chuckle. “Just saying hello, Marisela. They don’t bite. Well, most of them don’t.” I knew all of the horses. I’d ridden many of them, too. I felt more at home inside this barn than just about anyplace else in the world. Someday I wanted my own barn, my own stable. Finn knew that, too. I wanted as many animals as possible. This place had been my second home for so long and now I felt like a trespasser. That realization sank like a rock to the bottom of my stomach.
    “Well, where’s Honey Dew?”
    “It’s just Honey.”
    “Okay. Honey. ”
    “Just past the double-doors,” I said, lifting my forefinger to my mouth.
    “Okay,” she mouthed. “I’ll whisper.”
    We had to walk past the opened doors to reach Honey’s stall. The closer we got, the brighter the barn became. I could see the tops of Honey’s ears. They twitched and my heart raced even faster. I stopped by the opened doors, Marisela stopping short at my heels. I peered outside into the corral. It was empty. I turned to Marisela and mouthed, “Now!”
    We tiptoe-ran past the opened doors to the next set of stalls. This time I didn’t creep. I sprinted the rest of the way to Honey’s stall.
    I didn’t know how much time I’d have. I fumbled once, then twice, with the stall latch until finally I threw open the door and went inside. First I reached for her snout, letting her smell me. Then I threw my arms around her neck.
    “Honey!” I whisper-squeaked. “Oh my God! Oh my God!”
    Honey whinnied into my neck. I was so relieved to find her in her stall. No one had sold her or auctioned her away from me. I stroked her face, then her neck, the side of her coat and then that special spot between her eyes. She backed up a few paces in her stall, her hooves scraping against the dirt and loose straw in her excitement.
    “I’ve missed you, too!” I whimpered. Being alongside my horse, after everything that had happened, I wanted to bury my head in her neck and disappear. Honey was home. She was my home. “I’ve missed you so much!” My voice choked on the words. “So, so much!”
    “She’s pretty,” Marisela said from outside the stall.
    I wiped my hand across my nose. “Do you wanna pet her?”
    The whites of Marisela’s eyes widened. Her knuckles tightened over the stall. “I’ll leave you to get, er, reacquainted. Maybe in a bit.”
    I looked around the stall. Everything was as I’d left it. Honey’s saddle hung from a hook. A pail in the corner was filled to the brim with water. Hay was strewn in bits near the water. My extra pair of rubber boots were in the corner for when I mucked her stall. I could see lines in the hay and dirt, as if it had been swept recently. Most of all, Honey was still there. Brushed and fed. Healthy. Standing in front of me, her black eyes shiny and bright. I squeezed her neck again, reaching as much of her as I could on tiptoe, too happy to care that my tears wouldn’t stop falling.
    “Um, Abby?” Marisela whispered. “Abby?” Her whisper sharpened.
    I sniffed back my tears. “Yeah?”
    Marisela’s