As early summer settled over Silkwood, the air grew warmer, and more people could be seen strolling along the riverbank in the evenings.
Lately, Ruby had become obsessed with the sandbox. Armed with her little shovel, she would dig holes, fill them back in, and repeat the process endlessly, completely absorbed in her play. If she happened to find other kids who shared her passion, she’d be over the moon. Honestly, if no one called her home, she’d probably be content digging in that sandbox all night.
After dinner, Ruby tugged on Amelia’s hand, begging to go play at the sandbox by the river.
Elm Estates was just a short walk from the water—ten minutes at most.
The river shimmered beneath the glow of the streetlamps, evening breezes ruffling Amelia’s hair as she sat on a stone bench, eyes never leaving Ruby. She was always careful when taking Ruby out, never letting her out of sight, never distracted by her phone. With a child so young, you couldn’t afford to look away, not even for a moment.
“Mind if I sit here?” A woman in simple workout clothes stood nearby, a fluffy white Bichon Frise at her side, gesturing to the spot next to Amelia.
“It’s free,” Amelia replied, sliding over to make room.
The woman was a natural chatterbox. Barely seated, she struck up a conversation.
“Hey, that boy playing in the sand next to your daughter—he’s mine,” she said, nodding toward the sandbox.
Ruby glanced over just then and flashed Amelia a bright, sweet smile.
“That’s your daughter, right? She looks just like you. So pretty,” the woman added. “I think I saw you here the other day, too. You both love this sandbox, huh?”
Amelia smiled. “She begs to come here every day. I imagine we’ll be here a while.”
“My son’s the same way. He’s never satisfied with the little sandbox at the apartment complex—has to come all the way out here. Kids, right?”
They fell easily into the universal language of moms sharing stories, the woman chatting away while Amelia absently petted the Bichon at her feet.
The little dog was quiet, lying still while Amelia stroked its soft fur, occasionally glancing up at her before resting its chin on its paws again—utterly unbothered by the attention.
Suddenly, the little boy—Fitch—started flinging sand with his shovel. The woman called out sharply, “Fitch! Stop throwing sand! You’ll get it in someone’s eyes.”
But Fitch didn’t listen, sending another arc of sand flying—some of it landing in Ruby’s hair. Amelia hurried over, urging Ruby to move away just as the other mom stalked toward her son, dragging the Bichon behind.
Then, without warning, the Bichon’s nose twitched, and it lunged straight at Ruby.
Amelia’s heart stopped. Instinct took over—she threw herself between the dog and her daughter.
The dog’s jaws snapped shut, missing Ruby’s leg by inches and catching Amelia’s arm instead.
Pain seared through her. She bit back a groan, silently grateful for her long sleeves—they’d taken the brunt of the bite, sparing her worse injury.
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