Avery's Point of View
The weekend passed like a slow-motion nightmare.
I spent every remaining hour packing a small pink suitcase for Jasmine. I packed her favorite pajamas, her coloring books, her backup stuffed animals, and three detailed, handwritten pages of her daily routine—her allergies, her favorite bedtime stories, and the exact temperature she liked her milk.
By Monday morning, the city was buried under a thick, gloomy drizzle.
I sat on the edge of the living room sofa, my arms tightly wrapped around Jasmine as she chattered happily about going to see "Daddy’s big house." Every tick of the wall clock felt like a step toward a cliff.
At exactly 8:58 AM, the front desk called up to confirm that Captain Kane’s vehicle was downstairs. Two minutes later, the elevator doors chimed
