The park was peaceful. Too peaceful.

A flicker of movement near the treeline caught her eye. A man in a gray coat, watching. Not a parent. Not a jogger. Just standing there, still as stone.

Y/n's instincts screamed. She scooped Rebecca up, the toddler protesting with a wail of "Ducks, Mama, ducks!"

The man took a step forward. Then another.

Y/n pressed the emergency button on her watch—a silent pulse that would light up the Avengers' screens like a fire alarm. Her heart hammered as she crossed the street, pushing through the glass door of a crowded coffee shop.

The warmth of roasted beans and chatter enveloped them. She pressed Rebecca close, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Through the window, the man in the gray coat was gone.

But she knew better than to believe it.