“Hey! That’s my son!”
Her scream spread faster than panic itself. Within seconds, dozens of eyes locked onto the deep end where a broad-shouldered man covered in faded tattoos held Ethan firmly against his chest. The boy looked startled but not hurt, his arms stiff at his sides as if unsure whether to struggle.
From the deck, it looked unmistakable.
A stranger restraining a child.
Phones appeared immediately, lifted like shields.