Then, just as we were walking through the terminal, Mason suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
“Mom. MOM!”
His voice was loud enough to make me jump.
“What is it?” I whispered urgently.
He pointed ahead.
“DAD!”
My heart nearly stopped.
There, walking across the terminal less than thirty feet away, was Tyler.
He was dressed for work, carrying his flight bag, and speaking briefly with someone near the departure gates.
He hadn’t noticed us yet.
For one terrifying second, I couldn’t think of anything to do.
Then instinct took over.
I grabbed Mason’s hand and hurried toward the nearest gift shop.
We slipped inside just as Tyler continued walking past the entrance.
Suddenly, we found ourselves standing in front of a display of refrigerator magnets, pretending to be deeply interested in souvenirs we had absolutely no intention of buying.
I picked up a magnet shaped like an airplane.
Mason stared at it.
