–Damon–
My wife stands out more in her disguise. To anyone else, she doesn't look like Livana—not even close. Different posture, different cadence, a face softened by anonymity. But I know her. Every breath, every pause, the way the air shifts around her. I would recognize her in a crowd of thousands, blindfolded, bleeding, half-dead. So the disguise fools the world. It never fools me.
We headed to the pet shop—a massive one, polished floors, glass walls, and animals that cost more than most people's cars.
"Wow," Sky pressed his face against the glass of an arowana tank. His breath fogged it instantly. "Fissssh… yummy!"
I covered my mouth, shoulders shaking as I looked away, biting back laughter.
"No, Sky! It's a pet," Zendaya scolded him, hands on her hips. He pouted immediately.
"Foodie!" He jabbed a finger toward the fish—then another tank. "Foodie!" He grabbed my hand insistently and pointed again. "Foodie."
