The crowd thought the boy in the wheelchair was helpless-until the wild mustang lowered his head to his boots

fell in a new rhythm. She leaned closer until the side of her helmet touched the mustang’s neck. Cinder did not move except to lower his head another inch.

Nora’s pen stilled over her clipboard.

One of the volunteers looked away and wiped under her eye.

Jonah kept his hand loose on the rope. He understood the shape of what he was seeing, though he would continue reading …