Daniel offered a smile. Not friendly. Not cold. Just… neutral. “Hey, champ,” he said softly, “I really need you to stop kicking my seat. Okay?” The boy looked up. Blinked. Didn’t answer. Daniel waited a beat. Then added, “You probably don’t realize it, but it’s shaking my seat every time. Makes it tough to relax.”
Still no reply. Just a faint twitch of the boy’s lips—something between confusion and amusement. Daniel held the boy’s gaze for another second, then nodded once and turned back around. The train swayed gently through a curve. Outside the window, the grey outline of a town slid past—a blur of rooftops, power lines, and leafless trees.