Chapter 2 - The Interception
A tiny shadow fell over the coffee table.
He wore a sage green sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
In his left fist, he gripped a crumpled white cloth.
He stopped right beside the grey couch.
His head barely reached the armrest.
He stared at the flickering screen, then at the man.
A small, sticky hand reached out.
Fingers wrapped around the top of the black remote.
The man blinked, loosening his grip in surprise.
The remote slid out of his hand.
The boy turned.
He dropped the heavy black plastic onto the wooden coffee table.
Clack.
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The sound was sharp, snapping the room's attention to the center.
The boy pointed a stubby finger toward the back of the room.
