“What’s going on?” Rafayel asked, his brow furrowing as he set his coffee down on the table, the rich aroma wafting between us.

“There’s something urgent happening at Xavier’s school. Raymond just called me,” I replied, my voice tinged with anxiety as I grabbed my simple Sling bag, the fabric cool against my fingertips.

“What kind of problem?” Rafayel’s eyes narrowed, a hint of concern creeping into his tone. “You go ahead in an Uber. I’ll head back to the gallery to lock up.”

“Seriously? You care more about the gallery than your own son?” I scoffed, frustration bubbling up as I hurriedly summoned an Uber on my phone, my...