The hour felt less like a chance to connect with his children and more like a high-stakes, timed examination. Ariel had chosen the location: the small, somewhat worn public playground near the harbor—a neutral, exposed space where she could maintain absolute visual control. She dictated the time: precisely 3:00 PM on a Saturday afternoon, when the park was busy enough to afford anonymity but not so crowded as to confuse the twins.
Noel spent the preceding forty-eight hours in an agony of anticipation. He didn't consult with Finch or review corporate mergers; he reviewed articles on child psychology and the delicate art of non-verbal communication with three-year-olds. He dressed in the prescribed costume of the traveler: simple, unbranded clothing that was clean but not crisp. He carrie
