Miranda frowned, leaning over Todd’s shoulder in the editing bay as a lei-bedecked Marcy gushed about the passion of the islands. “No, no, not that segment. Fiji. The tribal village with the school.” “Right,” her beleaguered assistant muttered, switching the footage. “It might help if you told me exactly what you’re looking for.” “A spark,” Miranda said absently. “Scroll through. It’s when they’re with the kids.” Her assistant obliged until Miranda jabbed her finger at the screen. “There.” The footage froze on an adorable little girl, maybe four years old, hanging back as the other kids rushed forward to snatch cookies from the outstretched hands of Miss Right and her Suitor. “Get me the other camera, the one on Marcy, and put the two side-by-side. Play from there.” A few keystrokes and the scene began to play out. The little girl stood in the background, drawing a circle in the dirt with one bare toe. Marcy knelt, swarmed by kids, and her Suitor glanced up, noticing the little girl.
