A few months ago I received a call from my bank that inspired the following short story.

“Where is she?” I asked Harrison, a member of my security staff.

“She’s out by the pool, in the left corner. The men aren’t complaining, but there are children out there–human children. Their mothers have threatened to call the police.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Rook.”

I strode out of the lobby and down the hall towards the back door. Along the way, I stopped at the gift...