>Mallory
"Mara, where are you? We're at baggage claim already," I said on the other side of the phone, hoisting Asher higher when he tightened his arms around my neck.
"I'm outside, right in front," Mara replied. I could hear honking behind her. "I'm wearing sunglasses. Hurry before airport cops circle me."
"I'm trying. He won't walk."
"Try flying..."
"Mara—"
"Oh—I'm so getting a ticket," she muttered, then hung up.
I sighed and kissed the top of Asher's head. "Okay. Almost done. Then we go see Aunty Daddy, alright?"
He didn't answer, just pressed his face deeper into my shoulder.
We pushed through the crowd toward the exit. The rolling suitcase bumped unevenly over the tile, people brushed past us in impatient currents, and an announcement echoed overhead—
Then—
Asher's whole body went rigid.
Before I even understood, he shoved off my shoulder—hard—and dropped to the floor.
"Asher—!"
