A sharp crack echoed through the dining room, followed instantly by Toby’s horrifying, high-pitched scream.

Toby hit the floor on his side, his little watercolor set clattering across the wood as he started sobbing hysterically.

His left arm was pinned under his ribs, bent at an impossible, broken angle between his elbow and his wrist.

“Look what he made me do,” Chloe whined, taking two steps back while she kept twisting the leather strap of her designer handbag.

“He tripped me on purpose.”