He raised his hands.
Not quite a fighting stance.
More like a threat.
“Maybe I’ll make you put them on.”
The crowd went completely silent.
I looked at his hands.
Then at his feet.
Then at the space around us.
Old habits.
Unwanted habits.
But habits don’t disappear simply because you stop needing them.
My eyes moved automatically.
Three exits.
Four people within ten feet.
A parked SUV behind him.
A garden wall to my left.
Noah inside the house.
Grant filming.
I hated that my mind still calculated everything.
I hated that part of myself.
But it was there.
Waiting.
Logan stepped forward again.
And that’s when I heard a voice from the crowd.
“Logan, stop.”
Everyone turned.
It was Mrs. Alvarez from across the street.
An older woman who rarely spoke during neighborhood disputes.
Logan looked at her.
“Stay out of it.”
She shook her head.
