A black SUV sat directly in front of the green awning of Rossi Books.

“Oh, God,” I said.

My hand went to my mouth.

“Marco, stop the car,” Dominic ordered.

“Sir, we are in the open,” Marco warned.

“Stop the car now.”

Marco pulled over to the curb, thirty yards from the blockade.

I was already unlocking my door.

“Elena, wait,” Dominic said, grabbing my wrist.

“Let me go!” I screamed.

“If you go down there screaming, they will arrest you for obstructing,” Dominic said.

His grip was firm, but he wasn’t hurting me.

“They want a scene, Elena.”

“They want to prove you are unstable.”

I looked at him, my eyes burning with tears.

“She is five years old, Dominic.”

“She is terrified of sirens.”

He looked toward the bookstore.

A man in a dark overcoat was speaking to Mrs. Gable near the entrance.

Mrs. Gable was shaking her head, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

She was pointing inside, her face red with anger.

“I will handle this,” Dominic said.

“How?” I asked.

“You just said your own lawyer won’t take your calls.”