25
My cell phone blared the alert klaxon of a popular TV show I watched in my teens. It was the ringtone I set for Grandma’s and Grandpa’s contacts until we brought Vicki home safe. A few of the people at nearby tables shot looks my way, and I made eye contact with one soul who looked particularly belligerent and mouthed, “Bring it.”
He chose to go back to his meal. Odd, that.
By then, I thumbed the accept slider to take the call and held the phone to my ear. “Yes, Grandma?”
“We have her,” she said, and I felt like jumping to my feet and cheering. “Well, at least we have her location. She used her charm bracelet, Wyatt.”
I blinked. Her charm bracelet? “Uhh… Grandma, I don’t understand why that’s significant.”
“Oh, dearie me, of course not. The charm bracelet is something I developed
