ROOSEVELT’S POV

"Mama, why are you squeezing my hand so tight?"

I blinked and looked down at Lorna. We were walking along the stone path in Sempione Park. The Saturday morning sun was bright and warm, but my fingers felt cold.

"I'm sorry, sweet bug," I whispered, loosening my grip on her hand. "I am just a little nervous."

"Why?" Lorna asked, her dark eyes looking up at me with curiosity. "Is the work man mean?"

"No, baby," I said quickly, forcing a smile. "He is not mean, he is just very important."

"More important than me?" Lorna frowned and kicked a small pebble on the path.

"Nobody is more...