A child—maybe five or six years old—came barreling through the picnic area at full speed. His arms windmilled wildly as he ran.
The child wasn't watching where he was going.
He wasn't watching at all.
Then, Neville saw the disaster coming a split second before it happened.
The kid's foot caught on an uneven seam in the floor, and he went down hard. He skidded across the ground before tumbling to a stop right next to their table.
For one frozen moment, the child just lay there, stunned.
Then he started crying.
It wasn't a simple cry. It was the full-body, earth-shattering wail of a child who had experienced the worst injustice of his short life. Fat tears streamed down his face, mixing with snot and drool as he screamed at a volume that made Neville's ears ring.
Grayson was already on his feet before Neville could react.
