Olivia stretches and pretends to tie her perfectly tied sneakers. When she stands back up, her face is flushed. “He’s totally watching us! Do you think he’s CIA? Or a Russian spy sent to see if your gram is talking?”

I don’t even try to argue. I don’t know what to believe anymore. “I wonder if she knows him.”

“Ask her,” Olivia says, her mouth hanging slightly open as if she’s had the idea of her life. “They’re always talking about strangers and trusting your gut. Tell her your gut says this guy is a weirdo and he might be a kidnapper. If she knows him, she’ll try to talk you out of it.”

“I don’t know.” I want to ignore him and hope he goes away.

“If you don’t do something, then we might never know.” Her eyebrows go up, and she jerks her head to the side where he’s still standing. “He might be here to hurt her.”

I take one more peek. He lifts his camera to take a picture of the tigers and swings it slightly in our direction.

I pick up Clay and turn so the man can’t see my face. “Gram, there’s a man following us. He just took our picture.”

She frowns at me, her eyes flicking over my shoulder to where Olivia points. “He’s probably just part of one of these groups.”

“He’s been everywhere we’ve been today, and he keeps taking pictures of us. Trust me, he’s definitely following us.”

Gram glares at the man. “Let’s find your mother,” Gram says, grabbing my hand and then Olivia’s.

We walk fast with the man still behind us. “See,” I say when Gram glances back.

“Yes. I see.” Her mouth is in a straight line of pinched lips, and she looks forward with worried eyes.

Mom is leaning back on the bench where we left her. She stares at the clouds with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Rose, there’s a man who appears to be following us. I think it would be wise to alert the authorities here at the zoo. He might be a predator.”

“A tiga,” Clay shouts. He’s a lot smarter than he looks, this brother of mine.

“Really?” Mom looks around, her mouth a perfect circle. “Point him out.”

“The man with the camera wearing a blue hat,” I whisper.

Mom shakes her head. “He looks harmless.”

“Gram, please,” I say, turning to her in protest. “He was following us.”

Gram’s mouth flattens even more. She turns back and points at the man. “You there! Are you following my grandchildren?”

The man lowers his camera and points to himself.

“Yes, you,” Gram says. People around us stop and look.

“Sorry.” The man waves the camera at her. “I’m a photographer for the zoo. It’s my job to take pictures.”

“Prove it,” Olivia says.