Chapter 1 - THE THUMBNAIL
Ethan Carter saw his father before he saw Ryan.
Michael stood across the sidewalk near the line of parked cars, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other holding his phone upright.
That wasn't unusual.
Not anymore.
Michael filmed everything.
School pickups.
Basketball practice.
Homework at the kitchen table.
Ethan burning pancakes.
Ethan getting an A in science.
Ethan crying the first Christmas after his mother died.
Michael always said people followed them because they were honest.
Because other families needed to see that grief didn't have to destroy you.
So when Ethan came through the middle-school gate and saw the phone pointed at him, he barely thought about it.
He adjusted his backpack.
Started toward his father.
Ryan hit him from the side.
Not with a fist.
With both hands.
A hard shove between the shoulder and chest.
Ethan stumbled.
His back slammed against the metal fence.
The backpack slid off one shoulder.
Then his heel caught the curb.
He went down.
Books spilled across the sidewalk.
His math folder opened.
Loose worksheets scattered beneath passing shoes.
Several kids laughed before realizing something was wrong.
Ethan looked up.
Ryan was fourteen.
Two grades older.
He stood over him for barely a second.
Then walked toward the parking lot.
No insult.
No threat.
Nothing.
That was almost stranger.
Ethan turned toward his father.
Michael had not moved.
The phone was still raised.
Still filming.
Ethan waited.
Dad would come now.
He always came.
When Ethan fell off his bike last summer, Michael reached him before Ethan even started crying.
When a dog charged them at the park, Michael put himself between Ethan and the animal without thinking.
When Ethan woke from nightmares, Michael sat on the edge of his bed until he fell asleep again.
So Ethan waited.
Michael stayed where he was.
“Dad?”
Michael looked at the phone screen instead of at him.
“Just keep going. I’m recording.”
Ethan stared.
“What?”
“Pick your stuff up.”
Ethan's face burned.
Several students were slowing down.
Not to help.
To watch.
He lowered his eyes.
Picked up his science book.
English folder.
A pencil case that had burst open.
One pencil had rolled beneath the fence.
He left it.
His palms hurt.
His back hurt.
Something worse hurt too, although he couldn't have named it yet.
His father kept filming every second.
Ethan shoved the books back into his backpack.
Pulled himself upright.
His eyes stung.
He would not cry.
Not there.
He turned away from Michael.
Started down the sidewalk toward the car.
Behind him, the phone finally lowered.
Ethan heard footsteps.
At first he thought Michael was coming after him.
He glanced back.
Ryan had returned.
Ethan stopped.
Michael reached into his pocket.
Pulled out folded cash.
Handed it to Ryan.
Ryan counted it.
Ethan's body went cold.
Nobody seemed to notice him standing thirty yards away.
Ryan looked at the money.
Then at Michael.
“Was that good enough?”
Michael gave him a small nod.
Then he looked up.
Saw Ethan.
Father and son locked eyes.
Michael's face changed.
Not enough.
Not fast enough.
Ethan started walking back.
Slowly.
His eyes were wet now.
He didn't care.
Michael watched him approach.
For one second, Ethan thought his father might finally put the phone away.
Might come toward him.
Might explain.
Instead Michael lifted the phone again.
May you like
Pointed it at Ethan's face.
“Don’t wipe your face. That’s the thumbnail.”
