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I disengage before I say something permanent.
Security is working on location tracking.
Every contingency I swore I wouldn't need is activated without hesitation.
My mind runs worst-case scenarios in parallel. Exposure. Abduction. Media presence. Opportunists. I don't allow myself to imagine Henry afraid. Or alone.
I focus on logistics. That's how I survive this.
Still, something ugly coils inside me.
This isn't just about safety. It's about her deciding she didn't need to tell me.
My phone rings. Security.
"We've located Mrs. Dupree's phone signal, sir."
"Where?"
"The convention center downtown."
CAMICon.
