daily – 72
Following him into my office, though, it’s clearly not fine.
“Dad,” he says softly.
The screen is still scattered with the video feeds from the resorts, but they all look empty now; hollow images of shadowed, photo-negative buildings and craters. My heart dips at the apparent evidence sitting on the screen for the police and Interpol officers to see.
Behind us, his uniformed bulk filling the room, Reynolds’ grunt of satisfaction is clearly audible.
A quick glance shows the officer’s summarizing eyes on Patrick, confirming his obvious snap judgement from earlier. I give Patrick’s shoulder a firm squeeze and offer his worried face a half-hearted smile, but it’s as much to fend off my own fears. Officer Gerent squeezes into the small room around Reynolds. It’s already clear he’ll bend whichever way looks best to the other two.