Victor Montrose, who could command boardrooms and intimidate governments, closed his eyes for one second, opened them again, and lowered his hands.
Sofia took the bottle.
With both tiny hands she raised it carefully to her mouth and swallowed the warm golden liquid.
Victor stopped breathing.
The noise of the park seemed to vanish. The air turned cold inside his lungs. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Grace knelt beside the carousel and watched with an expression of almost peaceful certainty.
Three seconds.
Five.
Ten.
Sofia coughed once, softly, and then went still.
Victor felt disappointment rising like nausea. He had done something reckless. He had let desperation make a fool of him. He had—
Then Sofia opened her eyes.
They filled with tears.
Her lips trembled as if fighting through rusted machinery.
And then, from somewhere deep inside her throat, something fragile forced its way into the world.
“Da…da.”
The sound was hoarse. Unsteady. Barely formed.
It shattered Victor’s life open.