He could picture it—the leap, the scramble back up, his hands closing around that small, frightened body. But now that he was a dad, he had a responsibility to be careful. A little girl was depending on him. His chest tightened. He backed away from the edge.
Ethan backed away from the edge, pulse hammering in his throat. The rails were humming now, faint but steady. The kind of sound that made your bones vibrate if you listened too long. He spun toward the platform, scanning desperately for someone in uniform. “Station master! Where are you?” he shouted, voice cracking.