"Clean transitions, perfect control, exactly how we train it." Jada nodded cautiously, aware of the eyes watching them. "Thank you, coach." Mallory glanced around before slipping something from his pocket, a small thumb drive. "Security cameras in the locker room caught some interesting conversations before they went after your brother," he murmured, pressing it into her palm.
"Might want to keep that safe." The board reconvened 15 minutes later. Harrison's face was grave as he announced, "Given the serious nature of this incident, we will need 48 hours to review all evidence and reach an appropriate verdict. All parties are dismissed until Thursday morning." The late afternoon sun painted long shadows across the Hollis family's front porch as they sat around the small table, containers of Chinese takeout spread between them.
The events of the day had left them all drained, picking at their food more than eating it. Mama D broke apart her fortune cookie, reading the slip of paper inside with a small smile. "Sometimes victory comes in small steps," she read aloud before adding, "and sometimes it comes with a side of sweet and sour chicken." Caleb managed a weak laugh, pushing his rice around with his chopsticks. "Do you think they'll believe us?"
"They have to," Jada replied, though her eyes tracked the police cruiser that rolled past their house for the second time in 20 minutes. The headlights swept across their porch, lingering just a moment too long before the vehicle continued down the street. Mama D reached across the table, squeezing both her grandchildren's hands. The gesture carried years of understanding about how fragile victory could be, especially in Beaumont Crossing. They continued their meal in thoughtful silence, the empty takeout containers collecting between them as the sky deepened to purple.
The police cruiser passed once more, its presence a reminder that while they had won today's battle in the auditorium, the war was far from over. But for now, they had this moment. Family together on their porch, fortune cookie wisdom, and the small comfort of knowing they had stood their ground. The sharp rap of knuckles against wood jolted Jada from sleep. Her eyes snapped open in the darkness of her bedroom, heart already racing.
The knocking came again, more insistent this time, accompanied by a commanding voice. Beaumont Police Department, open up. Down the hall, she heard Mama D's bedroom door creak open. Jada threw off her covers and grabbed her phone, checking the time. 11:47 p.m. Through her window, red and blue lights pulsed against the neighbor's white siding.
Coming. Mama D called out, her voice steady despite the late hour. Jada hurried into the hallway just as Caleb emerged from his room, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his blue hoodie wrinkled from bed. What's happening? He whispered, his stutter more pronounced with fear.
Before Jada could answer, heavy footsteps thundered up their front porch steps. The knocking became a pounding that seemed to shake the whole house. Mama D reached the front door in her flower print robe, Jada and Caleb close behind her. The moment Mama D opened the door, three officers pushed their way inside, flashlight beams cutting through the dim living room. Behind them, the night air carried the sound of more police cars arriving.
Caleb Hollis? The lead officer's hand rested on his holster as he fixed his gaze on the 13-year-old. You're under arrest. What? Jada stepped forward, but another officer blocked her path.
On what charges? Assault with bodily fluids, the officer replied, already reaching for his handcuffs. We have video evidence of him spitting on three students during yesterday's altercation. Mama D's voice cracked like a whip. That's a lie.
Those boys attacked him. Ma'am, step back, the third officer warned, creating space for his colleague to approach Caleb. We have a warrant. Caleb's eyes went wide with panic. I d-didn't.