I leaned in closer, pressing my hand more firmly against the surface, as if proximity alone could make up for what was missing, and on the other side, one of the girls shifted again, her tiny palm brushing against the exact spot where mine rested. It wasn’t contact, not really, but it was close enough to feel like something.
“They know you’re there,” Lila said softly.
“I hope so,” I replied, though the words came out quieter than I intended.
For a moment, everything seemed to settle into a fragile kind of stillness, the kind that feels like it could hold if no one disturbed it, but then something changed, subtle at first, almost imperceptible. I noticed it in the way Officer Whitaker shifted his weight, the way his gaze lingered on the girls for a fraction longer than before, the way his expression softened just slightly, as if something about the scene in front of him had slipped past the barrier he had built around his responsibilities.
He cleared his throat, not loudly, but enough to draw attention.
“Mr. Reeves,” he said, and there was something different in his voice now, something quieter, more careful. “Step back from the glass for a second.”
I frowned slightly, unsure of what he meant, but I did as he asked, taking a small step back, my attention still fixed on the girls.
He glanced at Lila, then back at me, and for a brief moment, it looked like he was weighing something, as if the decision he was about to make wasn’t as simple as it should have been.
Then he reached for the control panel beside the door.
“You’ve got one minute,” he said, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want it to carry too far.
