Summer stood at the edge of the clearing for a moment longer than she meant to, her brain working through what her eyes were seeing.
Her father, standing. Upright, composed, hands loose at his sides like he'd spent the afternoon on a leisurely walk.
Ryan, on the ground. Not resting but down.
His chest was heaving in ragged pulls, sweat soaking through everything he was wearing, one palm flat against the dirt in what appeared to be an ongoing negotiation with his own body about whether standing was still a realistic option. A thin thread of blood traced its way from the corner of his mouth and dripped quietly into the grass below him.
Her father glanced down at Ryan sternly.
"F…Father!"
Summer broke from the entrance and crossed the grass quickly, her voice coming out sharper than she usually let things come out.
"What in the world are you doing to him?!"
Marlon turned at her voice.
