Delilah had decided instead of taking a toy from the gift shop she wanted the keychains. She’d grabbed random names and refused to budge on dropping any. So Graves’ went along with it. They would simply ‘get lost’ as they continued moving on. For now, they’ll play. He sits cross-legged on the floor across from where Delilah had decided to sit herself down. They’d starting playing tug of war. Graves only had to hook in a single finger whilst Delilah grabbed the other hand in two tight little fists. He was letting her win but making sure she felt like she was working for it. Everything was fine. Right until it wasn’t.
Graves’ jerks upright, his eyes wide but he doesn’t see Delilah, doesn’t see anything that happens for the next few seconds. He rips the keyring from her hand, it flings off his finger, sliding along the floor. Delilah lets out a sharp wail, small balled up fists wailing at Graves’ knees and beginning to cry. Even that doesn’t stir him. Eyes wide, he blinks away the fog over his vision. It’s something like a dream. He leans back against the pillar behind him, looking past Delilah, far into the distance where the station’s entrance sits.
Dread washes over him.