The man hesitated.
His phone had been pointed toward Wade only after Wade started running.
“No.”
“Then you filmed half a story.”
Lauren checked Sophie’s arms.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
Wade slowly placed the cane on the pavement instead of handing it directly back.
The folding joint near the center was bent.
He noticed.
His jaw tightened.
The cane had probably struck the grate as he pulled.
Lauren saw it too.
“You broke her cane.”
Wade looked down.
“Yeah.”
The delivery driver climbed from the truck.
“What happened?”
A woman near the pharmacy shouted:
“You almost backed over a kid!”
The driver went pale.
He looked toward the broken grate.
Then Sophie.
Then Wade.
“I didn’t see her.”
Wade’s anger shifted toward him.
“That’s the problem.”
Lauren looked finally toward the curb.
The rear tire had stopped inches beyond where Sophie had been standing.
The loose grate was partially raised.
Understanding began reaching her.
But fear does not disappear simply because facts change.
She looked back at Wade.
“You still should have warned her.”
Wade glanced at Sophie.
The girl had become unusually quiet.
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
Lauren seemed surprised.
“I should have.”
Sophie turned toward his voice.
“You should’ve said something.”
Wade’s expression changed.
Not defensive.
Ashamed.
“I know.”
Sophie held her damaged cane with both hands.
“Everyone does that.”
Lauren looked down.
“What?”
“Pulls me.”
Her mother blinked.
“Sophie…”
“Teachers.”
“People at stores.”
“People at church.”
“If I’m walking too slow, somebody grabs my arm.”
“If there’s a chair, somebody pushes me toward it.”
Her voice tightened.
“I’m blind.”
“I’m not luggage.”
The people filming became quieter.
Lauren’s face softened.
“Soph…”
The girl shook her head.
“I was okay until everybody started yelling.”
Wade looked at the pavement.
Then he crouched several feet away so his voice came from closer to Sophie’s level.
“You’re right.”
Lauren watched him carefully.
Wade continued.
“I saw the truck.”
“I got scared.”
“I moved before I talked.”
Sophie asked:
“Would you do it again?”
Wade thought.
“If the truck was that close?”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“That’s not what I meant.”
He understood.
“Would I warn you first?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
Sophie nodded.
“That’s better.”
Someone in the crowd laughed nervously.
The tension shifted.
Not gone.
Different.
The delivery driver approached.
“I’m really sorry.”
Sophie turned toward his voice.
“Were you the truck?”
The man gave a nervous smile nobody could see.
“I was driving it.”