That he understood.
The next morning, Police Chief Angela Monroe appeared before cameras.
Captain Raymond Pike had been placed on paid administrative leave pending an internal review. The department asked the public not to rush to conclusions while investigators examined the complete circumstances.
Simone watched from the kitchen.
Then turned off the television.
For several hours, she believed perhaps the worst had passed.
Then the messages started.
Not national messages.
Neighborhood ones.
A Black father named Terrence Wade said Pike had stopped him outside his own subdivision three times in two years. A nurse named Patrice Monroe said Pike followed her teenage son through the neighborhood after a convenience-store clerk falsely reported shoplifting.
Another woman described Pike demanding proof that she lived in her own house.
A retired teacher said she had filed a complaint after watching Pike search two Black teenagers without explaining why.
Simone created a spreadsheet.
Names.
Dates.
Incident descriptions.
Complaint numbers where available.
Witnesses.
Fourteen stories by the end of the day.
Noah saw the spreadsheet after dinner.
“That’s all him?”
“Most of them.”
“How long?”
“Years.”
Noah looked disturbed.
“Why didn’t anybody stop him?”
Simone paused.
“That’s an important question.”
She did not give him an easy answer.
Because she did not have one.
That evening they ate baked chicken, rice, and green beans. Ranger slept beneath Noah’s chair while Atlas stared hopefully at every forkful of food.
For one hour, Simone turned off her phone.
No news.
No comments.
No lawyers.
Just dinner.
Noah asked about his science project.
Simone helped him spell photosynthesis.
Normality felt fragile.
She held onto it anyway.
Two mornings later, Malcolm called.
His voice told her immediately that the situation had changed.
“Pike filed suit.”
Simone stopped pouring coffee.
“For what?”
“Civil damages.”
She set the pot down.
“How much?”
“Seven hundred fifty thousand.”
She almost laughed because the number sounded ridiculous.
Malcolm continued.
“He alleges emotional trauma, physical injury, professional harm, and deliberate use of dangerous animals to intimidate police.”
Simone’s smile disappeared.
“What does he want involving the dogs?”
Silence.
That was enough.
“Tell me.”
“He is asking the court to classify Ranger and Atlas as dangerous animals.”
“And?”
“Permanent removal from your custody.”
Simone closed her eyes.
“And?”
Malcolm’s voice softened.
“If the court determines they present an ongoing threat, his petition requests euthanasia.”
The kitchen disappeared for a second.
Not literally.
The refrigerator still hummed.
Morning light still entered through the window.
But Simone heard only the word.
Euthanasia.
She put her palm flat against the table.
“Who is representing him?”
“David Sloane.”
That name she knew.
One of the most expensive civil litigators in coastal Georgia.
“Pike cannot afford Sloane.”
“No.”
“Who is paying?”
“We’re looking.”
Simone stared out the window.
Ranger and Atlas patrolled the fence beside Noah.
“Find out.”
“We will.”