With his right hand, he held the shoulder of a little boy no older than seven.
The boy laughed.
“Dad, hurry!”
Dad.
The word echoed through the hotel lobby.
Sophia heard it too.
Her little fingers slowly loosened around the paper necklace.
Dominic finally looked toward us.
His smile disappeared.
For a second, pure panic crossed his face.
Then it vanished beneath practiced confidence.
“Vivienne…”
