A man in a yellow event security jacket stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.

The group of parents stopped walking entirely.

They turned toward the noise and stared at Claire’s faded jeans and frayed sweater.

“Ma’am, do we have a problem here?” the security guard asked.

He placed his large frame squarely between Claire and Vanessa.

“She’s been harassing me,” Vanessa said in a fragile, shaking voice.

She pulled her trench coat tighter around her shoulders.

“She followed my husband to the courtyard this morning, and now she’s cornering me here.”