Delayed responses, missing paperwork, convenient technical issues. They're hoping we'll give up. Maya said, "They don't know us very well, then, do they?" Her mother's smile was fierce. Later that evening, they drove to the grocery store, discussing strategy as they shopped. On the way home, Maya noticed headlights in the rear view mirror.
"Mom," she said quietly. "That black sedan has been behind us for six blocks." Judge Kingsley checked the mirror. "I see it. Let's be sure." She took a series of random turns through residential streets. The car stayed with them.
"Could be coincidence," she said, though her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. She turned right at the next intersection, then immediately right again. The sedan followed. "Call 911," Maya suggested. "And report it to whom?" "Officer Lauren's colleagues." Judge Kingsley shook her head.
No, we handle this ourselves. She accelerated slightly, then turned suddenly into a shopping center, cutting through the parking lot and emerging on a different street. The sedan appeared moments later. "Take a video," Judge Kingsley instructed. "Get the license plate if you can." Maya held her phone steady, filming as her mother executed a complex series of turns that finally lost their tail.
They took a lengthy detour before heading home, checking repeatedly to ensure they weren't followed again. Inside the house, Maya's hands were shaking as she uploaded the video to their evidence folder. "They're watching us," she said. "Yes," her mother agreed. "They're trying to scare us into backing down," she studied Mia's face.
"Are you afraid?" Mia considered the question carefully. "Yes," she admitted. But I'm more angry than scared. They think they can just get away with everything. That no one will stand up to them.