It wasn't strangers.
It was Reginald and Fiona.
Fiona pulled the boy closer, her voice trembling with practiced grievance.
"Hailey, if you resent me for accidentally calling you 'ma'am' that one time, or for stealing Reggie away from you, I'll apologize. Go ahead, hit me, yell at me, I can take it."
"But if you're angry, come at me. How could you put your own daughter up to attacking my nephew?"
The resolve in my daughter's expression wavered.
She trembled in my arms, her small fingers clutching the front of my shirt as she looked toward Reginald.
"Uncle Reggie, do you think it's my fault too?"
Reginald was quiet for a moment, then sighed.
"No matter what happened, hitting someone is still wrong."
"You heard him, Moira. Now hurry up and apologize to Tyler."
"Why should she apologize?"
I pulled my daughter closer, firing back immediately.
"Wasn't he the one who started it by calling her names?"
"Calling her a bastard and her mother trash — he deserved to get hit!"
At that, Fiona pinched the little boy hard.
Tyler burst into wailing sobs, and Fiona's own eyes reddened on cue.