“This guy must be tired of living. Of all people, he had to provoke that little devil Romeo.”
“Everyone in the capital knows how precious the son of President Jones is. That man is finished today.”
“This is what happens when someone overestimates themselves, trying to play the hero with no real power. He has only himself to blame.”
Some onlookers watched with pity in their eyes, while others sneered with mockery.
My daughter sobbed as she tried to shield me, but Tanner roughly shoved her aside, nearly sending her tumbling.
“Romeo, I’ll clean the plane for you right now. Please, please let this uncle go,” she cried.
She looked at me, lying in a bloody heap on the ground, then bit down on her lip, picked up the toy plane, and began gently licking it clean.
Her tiny tongue carefully wiped away the dust and grime, her tears falling freely.
My mouth was already full of blood and foam. Straining through the pain, I shouted with all the strength I had left. “Don’t lick it!”
“Stop right now!”
But she turned away, fighting her sobs, and handed over the now-cleaned plane.
“I’ve cleaned it. Please tell them to stop hitting him. He’s going to die…”