Fisher only slept because he couldn’t physically stay awake any longer. His body had limits, and he’d passed them long before checking into the hotel. So when he woke, his phone lay on his chest, right where it had fallen when he’d nodded off.
Stacey had not called. Or texted.
Owen had though. No voice mail. No texts. Just a missed call from a couple of hours ago. He dialed his general manager, though he really couldn’t do anything about rowdy tourists from half a world away.
On the fourth ring, Owen answered with, “Fisher, I’m sorry I can’t talk right now. I’m on the phone with Cooper. Zach’s having an attack.”
Concern spiked in Fisher’s pulse. Owen’s younger son suffered from asthma and panic, and one triggered the other. “No problem. Call me later.”
Owen ended the call, and Fisher
