Grayson glanced down. A girl of about four stood there. Reddish-gold curls escaping a frayed wool cap. A beige coat too large for her frame, a red dress underneath, boots swallowing her feet. A little green backpack hung from her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her enormous blue eyes trembling with fear.

He dropped to his knees without caring that ice and slush clung to his trousers.

“Are you lost, sweetheart?”