"Is there a problem here?" Tyr's voice carried quiet authority.
The woman spun around, her fingers digging into the boy's shoulder. "More of you freaks?"
"Ma'am, I suggest you leave. Now." Tobi's tone held a menace that raised the hair on Beth's arms.
Over the woman's shoulder, Tyr discreetly made the universal "call me" gesture with his hand. Nodding her understanding, Beth slipped her phone out, dialing 911 with trembling fingers. "Yes, hello? We need police at Country Veterinary Clinic. We have an aggressive woman harassing staff and refusing to leave."
"You can't make me-" The woman's words cut off as Tyr stepped forward, his blue eyes glacial.
"Actually, we can. This is private property, and you're trespassing." He gestured toward the door. "Your choice - leave willingly or be escorted out."
The woman released the boy's arm, jabbing a finger at Tyr's chest. "Don't touch me, you monster!"
"We're security, ma'am." Tobi moved to flank her other side. "You can walk out on your own or not, but you're leaving."
The woman's expression turned vicious, and she stormed toward the door. Tyr and Tobi followed close behind, their tall forms bracketing her exit.
The 911 operator was asking if they were safe.
"Yes, the woman is being escorted outside by our security," Beth told her. "They'll hold her until the officer arrives."
The operator assured her a squad car was on the way. Thanking her, Beth ended the call.
The boy remained rooted in place, his thin shoulders hunched as he stared at the floor. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Beth's heart clenched at the misery in his young voice. She crouched down so she was below the boy's eye level, keeping hermovements slow and gentle. Non-threatening. "Hey there. I'm Beth. What's your name?"
He glanced toward the door where his mother's muffled shouts still carried through the glass. "Todd," he mumbled.
His eyes darted up to meet hers for a brief moment, then his shoulders relaxed slightly when he confirmed his mother remained outside. He met Beth's gaze, a tiny smile curving his lips. "I... I actually think shifters are way cool."
Beth's heart squeezed as Todd absently rubbed his arm where his mother had gripped him. In the fluorescent clinic lighting, faint purple bruises were already forming against his pale skin.
"That looks like it hurts," she said softly.
Todd's thin shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug as he picked at a loose thread on his backpack strap.
Beth kept her voice gentle, barely above a whisper. "Todd... are you safe at home?"
His fingers worried the zipper pull on his jacket. "I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do." Beth prompted softly.
Todd's jaw worked for a moment before he answered. "Yeah. For now, anyway." The words came out barely audible.
Beth's heart rate picked up, but she kept her voice steady. "Has she ever hit you?"
"Not yet." He tensed as his mother's voice carried through the glass, now arguing with the police who had arrived. "She just... grabs sometimes. When she's angry."
Beth's heart sank as she studied Todd's expression. His young face held a weariness far beyond his years, a resignation that spoke of waiting for the inevitable.
She opened her mouth to speak, to offer help or resources, but Todd cut her off with a sharp shake of his head.
"I've got it figured out." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "The first time she actually hits me will be the last time." His small fingers tightened around his backpack strap like a lifeline. "I'll let her do it once. Just once. Then I'm gone. I'll go straight to the hospital. Let them document everything."
Protective fury surged through Beth. The casual way Todd spoke about allowing himself to be hurt, the methodical planning, the resignation in his young voice - it was all wrong. No child should speak with such calculated acceptance of violence.
"I've got clothes and stuff hidden - a go bag." Todd tilted his chin up with defiant pride, though a kind of resigned acceptance shadowed his young features.
