People around us recoiled, the immediate space shifting as if an invisible boundary had been drawn. Someone dropped a drink, plastic hitting concrete with a hollow crack. A child started crying somewhere behind me. Voices rose, overlapping, uncertain.
The man didn’t look at me.
Didn’t acknowledge me at all.
He just kept moving, pulling Claire with him, guiding her—no, forcing her—away from the tight cluster of people near the entrance. There was something urgent in the way he moved, something that didn’t match the chaos building around him. It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t aggression. It was… focus.
Claire twisted, trying to regain her balance, her free hand instinctively going to her stomach. Her face had gone pale, confusion overtaking whatever initial irritation she might have felt. “I don’t—Lucas, I don’t know—”
That was enough.
