The light chirped and turned white.

I squeezed my children’s warm hands, turned my gaze forward, and stepped into the intersection, leaving him behind. I didn’t look back to see whether he was still watching.

It didn’t matter.

The wind swirled a vortex of colored leaves around our feet.

My daughter looked up, her bright eyes curious. “Who was that man looking at us, Mom?”

I smiled down at her, the general gone, replaced by a mother’s plain, fierce love.