I neverโ His stutter worsened as the officer grabbed his arm. Don't touch him. Jada moved to intervene, but Mama D caught her arm. Baby. Don't, she whispered urgently.
They're looking for a reason. Through the open door, Jada spotted Chief Whitmore standing beside his department SUV watching the scene unfold. Even in the darkness, she could see the satisfaction in his stance. The officers began reciting Caleb's rights as they led him toward the door. His small frame looked even younger in his rumpled sleep clothes, hands now cuffed behind his back.
We need to see this supposed video evidence, Mama D demanded, following them onto the porch. You can't just take a child in the middle of the night. One of the officers produced a tablet, playing a grainy clip that showed yesterday's confrontation from a new angle. The footage had been clearly edited, choppy and dark, but appeared to show Caleb making a spitting motion toward the Whitmore boys before Jada arrived. That's not what happened.
Jada's fists clenched at her sides. They edited that footage. The video speaks for itself, the lead officer stated flatly. You can contest the evidence at the hearing. They watched helplessly as the officers guided Caleb down the porch steps.
He looked back once, eyes shining with tears in the police lights. Jay. His voice was small, frightened. I'm coming with you, Mama D declared, already heading for her car. He's a minor.
You can't question him without a guardian present. The lead officer nodded curtly. Follow us to the station. Jada started after them, but Mama D turned back. Stay here, baby.
Call Mrs. Price. We'll need a lawyer first thing in the morning. The convoy of police vehicles pulled away, leaving Jada alone on the porch. Across the street, curious neighbors peered through their curtains at the commotion. Chief Whitmore remained by his SUV for a moment longer, making eye contact with Jada before climbing in and driving away.
Inside, Jada paced the living room, her phone pressed to her ear as she left an urgent message for Mrs. Price. Her mind raced through the events of yesterday. The original confrontation, the board hearing, Coach Mallory's thumb drive. The pieces were starting to form a pattern, one that made her stomach twist with anger. 20 minutes later, she stood outside the police station, staring through the glass doors at the harsh fluorescent lighting within.
The night dispatcher barely glanced up as Jada entered, pointing her toward a hard plastic chair in the waiting area. Through a window in the door to the holding area, Jada caught glimpses of Caleb sitting alone in a juvenile holding cell. The buzzing lights cast stark shadows across his face as he huddled on the metal bench still in his sleep clothes looking impossibly small. Mama D sat in a chair near the holding area door, her back straight despite her exhaustion, watching every officer who passed with steel in her gaze. She'd already been told they'd have to wait for processing, that nothing could be done until morning.
Jada's reflection in the glass doors showed her own face set in grim determination. Her hands, trained through countless hours of martial arts practice to strike with precision, now curled into tight fists at her sides. The doctored video playing on loop in her mind only fueled her resolve. The station's clock ticked past midnight, each second marking time until dawn when they could begin dismantling this fabricated case. But for now, all they could do was wait.
Caleb alone in his cell, Mama D standing guard, and Jada at the entrance. A silent sentinel promising justice with every breath. Mrs. Ruby Price's kitchen smelled of rich chicory coffee and fresh baked biscuits. Morning sunlight streamed through lace curtains casting delicate patterns on the worn wooden table where she sat with Jada examining Coach Mallory's thumb drive on her ancient laptop. "Child, you haven't slept."