“What did you write?” His tone held wonder, as if the answer might be more than words.

I opened my mouth—but before I could reply, a tall man stepped into our path. Broad-shouldered, stiff, dressed in a crisp black suit that didn’t belong in this park. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched, his face unreadable.

“You and the children need to come with me,” he said, his tone flat, rehearsed, like a script.

Instinctively, I pulled the kids close. Adam straightened, sensing tension. Alice hid behind my coat, peeking out nervously.

The blind man’s head snapped sharply. “Leave her alone,” he barked with authority. “I’ll call the police!”

His voice startled me with its strength, like he could see more than anyone thought.

But the suited man didn’t flinch. “Why should I go with you?” I demanded.

He calmly adjusted his cufflinks. “My client wishes to speak with you. Nothing criminal. Just a conversation.”