The staff came back, skating quickly to where Miles steadied Hope and Asher.
Miles glanced up. "Yes? What's the problem?"
The young man hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Boss… they're requesting a private rink as well. But all our smaller rinks are already occupied."
Miles's eyes flicked toward the glass wall again — at the man and the little girl. He nodded slowly.
"Ask them," Miles said, "if they'd be comfortable sharing this rink with us."
"Alright, boss." The staff member bowed slightly, then hurried back toward the door.
Behind Miles, two of the staff whispered as they leaned against the rail. Their voices carried just enough to reach his ears.
"Poor girl," one said softly.
"I feel bad for her," the other replied.
Miles didn't turn, didn't break stride, but the words settled in his chest. He looked again at the man outside.
