They were escorted to a private screening room near security.
A female officer crouched beside the girl, offering a juice box and a gentle smile. TSA agents searched the family’s bags, jackets, stroller—everything came up clear.
The father chuckled awkwardly. “See? Maybe the bear smells like peanut butter crackers or something.”
But Max wasn’t interested in crumbs.
The girl sat on the floor, legs crossed, hugging Mr. Pickles. Max inched closer, whining softly, his gaze steady.
Daniels crouched beside them. “Sweetheart, may I take a quick look at your bear? Just for a moment. I’ll be very careful.”
Her lower lip trembled. “But he’s mine…”
Daniels gave her the gentlest smile he could muster. “And he’ll always be yours. I just need to solve a little mystery, that’s all.”
