The rain came down in relentless sheets, turning the city streets into mirrors of blurred headlights and distorted reflections. Daniel Morgan tightened his grip on his eight-year-old son Ethan’s hand as they hurried across the parking lot outside the pharmacy. “Stay close to me,” Daniel said, raising his voice over the storm. “The ground’s slippery.”
Ethan nodded, his small sneakers splashing through shallow puddles. “I’m holding on, Dad.”
A sudden screech sliced through the noise of the rain, sharp and violent enough to freeze everyone nearby. Daniel’s head snapped toward the sound just in time to see a silver sedan fishtailing across the slick pavement, its driver fighting the steering wheel in panic. The car spun once, twice, completely out of control, and then began sliding directly toward the pedestrian walkway where they stood.
