Milo moved closer, and Malcolm could sense him standing near the table. The child was short, so it would take a little effort for him to peek at the contents of the envelope. Malcolm listened intently, waiting for any sound that would betray Milo’s intentions.
The boy’s small voice broke the silence. “Mr. Greyford, are you awake?” he murmured, barely above a whisper.
Malcolm’s breathing remained steady, his disguise unbroken. He continued to feign sleep.
Milo waited for a response and, receiving none, sighed quietly. Malcolm could almost feel the weight of the child’s thoughts, churning in the little head.
