I was done. My legs had nothing left, my arms couldn't even shield my head anymore—and then someone cut through the mob like a blade, scattering them.
The mob turned on him, cursing: "Mind your own damn business! You wanna be the hero?"
"What, you sleeping with this mistress too?"
"Want us to beat you next?"
Ernest's face changed instantly.
He hurried over, bowing and scraping: "Mr. Swanson, hello, I'm Ernest Sanchez."
Mr. Swanson didn't spare him a glance. His eyes were locked on me, and the pain in them nearly broke into tears.
I tried to smile. It barely held. "Dad," I whispered. "You came."
