oicy tugged on his vest again, signing furiously. His jaw tightened.
“They’re here,” he translated. “The woman with red hair. The man in the blue shirt. Pharmacy.”
—
A couple approached, smiling too brightly.
“There you are, sweetheart!” the woman called. “Come to Mommy!”
Joicy buried her face in his chest, shaking.
“That’s our daughter,” the man insisted. “She has behavioral issues. Thank you for finding her.”