María’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t.”
He froze.
Emily stood behind her, stuffed rabbit crushed against her chest.
Daniel looked toward the half-open bedroom door.
The pink blanket stretched across the carpet.
The phone beside it continued carrying every sound back to dispatch.
Claire remained at her console, listening.
Nobody needed the word snake to mean the same thing anymore.
They only needed to understand why an eight-year-old had chosen it.
Daniel moved toward the door.
