Emily swung into the emergency vet’s parking lot hard enough that her tires squealed. Before she could even open her door, a vet tech spotted Ranger slumped across the back seat and sprinted toward her.
“He was bitten,” Emily said, her voice cracking. “A snake—red and yellow—please, he’s fading—” “Got him,” the tech said, already lifting Ranger out with practiced urgency. “We’ll take it from here.”