But the pain folded through me.
My breath vanished.
The water fountain blurred.
My hand flew to the wall.
Marcus saw enough.
Not all.
Enough.
For one raw second, his face changed.
Not with concern.
With calculation.
Witnesses.
Camera.
Risk.
Then he made his choice.
He looked at Savannah and said, “Careful.”
Careful.
Not sorry.
Not stop.
Careful.
The young mother on the bench gasped.
Paul was already moving.
Claire came out of the courtroom at a run.
“Emily!”
Savannah stepped back, eyes wide now, mouth open in perfect innocence.
“She bumped me.”
Marcus moved between us.
“She’s fine,” he said.
I straightened slowly.
The pain was sharp, but not spreading.
No fluid.
No blood.
My daughter rolled once, furious and alive.
I breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then I looked at Paul.
“I want that entered.”
Paul’s face was stone.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Marcus said, “Entered where?”
