I lunged forward, shoving past a couple who had frozen in place, my pulse hammering in my ears so loudly it drowned out everything else. All I could see was a stranger dragging my pregnant wife through a crowd, and every instinct I had screamed the same thing: stop him.
“Let her go!” I yelled, my voice sharper now, louder, cutting through the noise.
The crowd responded in kind, as crowds tend to do when given a focal point. People started shouting, some in support, some just reacting to the tension.
“Hey, back off, man!”
“Call security!”
“What is he doing?!”
Phones appeared, lifted into the air like reflexes rather than choices. I could feel the energy shifting, building toward something messy and uncontrolled.
Claire tried to plant her feet, but the man adjusted his grip—not tighter, exactly, but more deliberate, guiding rather than dragging, though there was still no room for refusal.
“Please,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Can you just tell me what’s going on?”
He didn’t answer.
