I grabbed Lilian’s tiny hand and pulled her away. I practically ran down the stairs, dragging my daughter with me. I was terrified that if I walked slowly, he would follow us.
"Bye-bye, superhero!" Lilian called out over her shoulder, waving her free hand happily at him.
"Bye, little one," I heard his deep, sad voice echo down the stairs.
I didn't look back. I ran through the grand lobby, my heart hammering against my ribs, and we pushed through the heavy glass doors and rushed out into the freezing Alaskan air.
"Mommy, you're squeezing my hand too tight," Lilian complained.
"I'm sorry, baby," I breathed, loosening my grip. I stopped on the snowy sidewalk, putting my hand over my heart. I was shaking from head to toe.
"Vi, over here."
I looked up. A few yards away, in a small snowy
