Free Any Minute by Meyer Joyce Bedford Deborah

raised his eyes.
    “Don’t you remember talking about stranger danger?”
    He’d nodded so hard, his bangs flopped and his glasses slid sideways.
    “Have you really seen this man before? Do you think he could be following you?”
    Mitchell shrugged, apparently deciding it best to be vague.
    “Have you?” she pressed.
    “I’m not sure,” he said, on the verge of tears.
    “You don’t talk to adults who ask for help from children. That’s not the way it works.”
    Mitchell jammed his hands so deep inside his pockets that he might have been reaching for China. But she couldn’t let up on him, not about something as crucial as this. “Mitchell, it’s one of the most important rules you’ll ever learn. There’s danger everywhere.”
    They stood all alone in the elevator with Mitchell gripping her hand, and just thinking about it made Sarah want to reprimand him again. But before she had the chance to start up, the brass doors slid open to reveal the Roscoe lobby.
    Together they stepped out. Sarah knew immediately that something was wrong.
    A hushed gloom had fallen over the office. No one smiled in the foyer. Discussions, usually punctuated with laughter, were being carried on in low, serious voices.
    What happened?
she mouthed to Leo over Mitchell’s head.
What’s going on?
    He shook his head.
Don’t ask.
    She raised her brows, questioning him.
    “Ah, nice trading jacket,” Leo diverted, pumping Mitchell’s hand with vigor. “Very cool.
    “How was the game the other night? Was it the best?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I was so jealous, thinking of you guys. Man, Mitch, I would have given anything to be there.”
    Sarah interrupted. She certainly didn’t want the conversation to go in
this
direction. “Leo?” She held out a hand. “Messages?”
    But for the moment, Leo ignored her. He focused on Mitchell. “So, what else is going on in your life, kid?”
    Mitchell brightened under Leo’s attention. “After we’re done here, I’m showing Mom how I can throw down one-wheelers at the skate park.”
    Sarah had made this promise on the trading floor, a last-ditch effort to put a smile on his face. “We can?” he’d asked. “Yes.” “You sure?” “You have your board with you, don’t you?” “It’s in the car.” “Then we’ll do it.” Even then, she’d hated how his brow furrowed with skepticism. “I
promise
,” she’d told him.
    “That rocks,” Leo said now. “Very cool.”
    “And I’m in a Math Counts competition tomorrow. There’s kids coming from different schools, and Mrs. Georges, my teacher, picked me. Mom’s getting me Cubs pencils for good luck.”
    Oh my word.
Sarah was horrified. She’d totally forgotten about the Cubs pencils. She’d intended to pick them up from a souvenir booth at the game. “Mitchell. I’ ve—”
    But Leo didn’t let her finish. “That is so great, Mitchell. You must be brilliant in math. A real genius.”
    “Mitchell,” Sarah was trying to tell him. “I don’t have the—”
    But Leo shot her a look. “Hey, what can you find to do in your mother’s office?” he asked Mitchell. “Set up a Facebook page? Copy your nose on the printer? You know how to do that? I need to assist your mother for a minute.”
    Mitchell’s glasses magnified his rounded eyes. “Really? You don’t mind if I make faces on the copier?”
    “Just don’t look at the light. Don’t blind yourself. Your mother will blame me.”
    Leo pointed to the leather swivel chair, herded him inside, and closed the door behind him. Sarah cupped her hand over her mouth and sucked in a huge gasp of air through her fingers. “What am I going to do? I don’t have those pencils.”
    Leo slid his drawer open and, with a flourish, handed her a good half dozen of them. “Now you do.”
    She stared at the pencils in her hand. They were white with blue Cs, and CUBS written in red.
    “These are yours? You just keep these around?”
    “Of course I do. You don’t think Mitchell’s the