We both stopped, startled, but he looked far more nervous than he should have considering he'd known I was there. I reached out on impulse, tried to grab his hand, to say something to comfort him for the loss of his grandmother-fraud or not, she was his family-when he spoke. Well, blurted. "Where is she?" Took me a second to make the connection and when I did I almost facepalmed. Of course he was here for the same reason as me, but why? Like Pamela was meant to meet him here, maybe? He bent sideways to look past me into the dark office, face twisting in anxiety.
"I don't know." I was rather proud of that calm, level tone I'd adapted from a mix of Dad at his most quiet and Mom's practiced control over crazy teenagers for over thirty years. "Can I help you with something, Denver?" Right, because a random stranger was exactly who he'd hoped to encounter here.