The presidential suite was enormous.
Two bedrooms, a sitting area that could have housed a small apartment, a kitchen outfitted with marble countertops, and a bar that no one in their family was likely to use. The windows faced the city skyline, and the morning light was already pouring in when Lily and Leo woke up.
They woke up early. Very early. The kind of early that came from jet lag and excitement and the particular energy of children who had been promised a day of exploration in a foreign city.
"There's a business district," Lily said, kneeling on the couch with a tourist map spread across the cushions. She had found it in the lobby the night before and had been studying it like a military strategist planning a campaign. "And shopping malls. And restaurants. And there's a park with a fountain that lights up at night. And an amusement park. And a zoo. A new zoo. Aunt Estella's friends said it just opened."
