“Can I watch?”
The voice of my daughter, aged five, walking into my workshop normally would’ve been welcome. Today however, no; I was deep into a battle robot build and danger didn’t just lurk in the shadows; it beckoned with open arms.
“Sweetie? How about you play with your sister?”
“Nah. Mom said you were doing cool stuff down here.”
As she took her third step into my space, she reached for the red-handled flame thrower. Goodbye politeness, hello panic.
“No! Stop!”
She looked at me, hand hovering above flaming death.
“Sarah? Don’t move. Let me come to you.”
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