“You warned me?” He pointed at himself and laughed. “You think because you filled out paperwork for the military, you can talk to me like that?”

One of the gym men shifted uncomfortably. This had probably been sold to them as a friendly demonstration, the kind of dumb backyard challenge built around bragging rights and beer. Now there was a child hiding behind a lawn chair while a grown man threatened her mother. It no longer looked like sport.

Mr. Palmer stepped closer to Sophie and put himself between her and the lawn. “That’s enough, Travis,” he said.

Grant rounded on him instantly. “Stay out of family business.”

“It stopped being family business when he threatened her in the street,” Mr. Palmer replied.

Travis’s eyes flicked toward Sophie. It lasted less than a second, but I saw the calculation in it. He understood that my attention was split between him and my daughter, and he believed that made me weaker. He moved toward the pavement. I stepped into his path.

His grin came back. “There she is,” he said. “Finally ready to do something.”

“No,” I told him. “I’m ready to stop something.”