The afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the quiet residential street. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming roses and the cheerful sound of a child's laughter.
"Martin, come back here!" a voice called out from the doorway of a modest, well-kept house.
A small boy, his face alight with joy, ran out onto the lawn, his short legs pumping as fast as they could. His giggles filled the air. "You can't catch me, Papa!" he shouted.
Martin kept on running, looking back over his shoulder to see if his father was coming after him. He was so focused on the game that he didn't see the tall figure walking up the path until it was too late.
He ran directly into the man's legs, the impact sending a small "oof" out of him. But before he could fall to the ground, a strong, steady hand caught him by the shoulders, holding him upright.
