Rex’s growl deepened, just a fraction. Emma felt it again—the smallest hesitation. Rex had worked crowds before. Protests. Public events. Worse than this. Vincent nodded. He lowered his voice. “I just don’t want him stressed. Or blamed. Or worse—taken away because someone panics.” Before Emma could answer, the music outside began to swell.
Vincent glanced toward the doorway, then back at Rex. “Could you have him taken outside?” he asked. Not sharp. Not demanding. Reasonable. “Just until things calm down.” Emma hesitated. Rex’s body was still rigid beneath her hand. “Lucy,” she said quietly, turning. “Take him out first. Walk him with the others. Let him settle.”