The Shooting Star

The wind on the mountaintop, tinged with autumn's chill, brushed my face like fine grains of sand. I tightened the collar of Leo's coat again; his small head poked out, his nose bright red from the cold, yet his eyes were fixed intently on the horizon. The streetlamp behind us cast two crooked shadows; his shadow kept brushing at my feet, like a restless little dog. "Mother, the teacher said a meteor shower is stars running, right?" Leo's breath hung in the cold air, condensing into white clouds. He grasped my finger and shook it gently; the warmth of his palm seeped through the thin glove. I crouched down, brushing my fingertip against his ice-cold ear: "Yes, the fastest stars glow, and those who see them can have their wishes come true." Dandelions on the grassy slope were lifted by the wind; one landed softly on his eyelashes. He blinked, and the white fluff floated away. He immediately clasped his small hands together, squeezing his eyes shut, long lashes still dotted with sweat beads from running—now shining brightly. "I'll practice quietly first." He whispered softly, the corners of his mouth lifting high to reveal two newly sprouted little tiger teeth. The footsteps behind crushed the gravel with a "clack clack," heavy and sharp as if striking my heart. The moment I turned, my throat felt blocked by something — Mark Young stood there, his black trench coat billowing in the wind, and in the crook of his arm was Daisy Lynn, clad in an off-white dress. The hem of her dress was lifted by the wind, revealing a slender ankle; she trembled in the cold, yet her face bore an innocent smile. Daisy Lynn curled closer into Mark Young's embrace, the skin of her exposed arm covered in goosebumps, yet her face held a shy smile as her eyes darted quickly over me and Leo. "Mark, it's so cold here." Her voice was soft as cotton candy, yet her fingertips discreetly pinched Mark Young's arm. "Reagan Scott, what are you doing here?" Mark Young's voice sounded as if pulled from an ice cellar, each word imbued with a coldness. His gaze passed over me and landed on Leo, his brow knitting briefly — clearly forgetting he had promised yesterday to bring his son to watch the shooting stars. Leo poked his head out from the crook of my arm, his small brows furrowing when he saw Mark Young. He's been avoiding his father lately, saying Dad smells with other scent. "Dad." He whispered softly, then quickly buried his face in my embrace. "I brought Leo to see the meteor shower." I tucked Leo behind me, my palm sweating cold, but I tried to keep my voice steady. "I didn't know you would come too." The thermos in my backpack pressed against my waist—the warm milk I had carefully prepared for Leo before we left. Mark Young stepped forward twice, his hiking boots crunching sharply over the dry grass. "Looking to cause trouble for Daisy again?" His eyes were like knives tempered with ice. "I've warned you three times—stay away from her." "I haven't." I quickly waved my hands, my fingertips trembling. "We arrived this afternoon and have been waiting for the stars all along." Look, Leo even brought his telescope. I pointed to the blue telescope at my feet—that was the gift Leo got for his birthday last week. "Mark, just drop it." Daisy Lynn tugged on Mark Young's sleeve, her voice soft as cotton candy, "Reagan definitely didn't mean it; the meteor shower is about to begin." As she spoke, the corner of her eye swept over me, piercing gently like a needle. Mark Young's expression darkened even further. "Not on purpose?" He sneered coldly, the hem of his trench coat brushing his knees. "Last week in the company break room, you deliberately turned and bumped into her, causing her to fall down the stairs and bruise her knee badly; Those recent posts in the social circle about 'someone stealing my spot'—weren't they directed at her? Reagan, are you really so jealous of her success?" "That's a misunderstanding!" I said urgently, my eyes burning with tears. "There was water on the tea room floor; the cleaner had just mopped it, and I almost slipped myself.""The social circle is talking about the stray cat downstairs—the calico that Ms. Clark feeds every day—who was bullied by the new black cat..." "Misunderstanding?" Mark Young stepped closer, his shadow fully enveloping Leo and me. "Would Daisy lie to me? She even said yesterday that she was afraid you'd be unhappy, and wanted to find a chance to apologize to you. But you—how can your heart be so cruel?" Leo tugged my hand softly and whispered, "Mother, I'm scared." His small hands trembled, and I felt cold sweat soaking his palms. Just as I bent down to hold him, a silvery light suddenly exploded across the horizon. It was as if someone had sliced through black cloth, shining so brightly that the low pines on the distant hillside were clearly visible. Then a second, a third... shooting stars began to multiply, trailing long tails, like fireworks set off by invisible hands in the sky. "Shooting stars!" Leo suddenly forgot his fear and jumped up on tiptoe. Daisy Lynn immediately closed her eyes, clasped her hands into tiny fists over her chest, and her lips moved as if making a wish. Mark Young immediately turned his head and glared at me, the fury in his eyes nearly erupting: "You disturbed her!" Before I could even say, "I didn't say anything," a tremendous force slammed into my back. It felt as if I had been struck by an iron hammer; my insides seemed to have been thrown out of place. I screamed and lunged forward, realizing the edge of the observation platform beneath my feet was a sheer drop. Loose stones tumbled down the cliffside, their faint echoes returning only after a long while. A wave of weightlessness swept over me. I saw Leo's face turn pale in an instant, his small mouth forming an 'O' shape. "Mother!" His cry pierced the wind as his short legs stumbled, rushing toward me. Then, I saw Mark Young stretch out his hand. I thought he was reaching for Leo; my heart clenched sharply—but instead, his hand pushed against Leo's back. The push was merciless; Leo's small body wobbled like a leaf caught in the wind, staggered forward two steps, then tumbled over the platform's edge. "Leo!" I couldn't find my voice; my throat felt clogged with blood. The rushing wind filled my ears as I fell; the last thing I saw was Daisy Lynn turning her face away, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. It was light, yet it pierced my fading consciousness like an ice pick.