Comments scroll by in a blur. This is America in 2024. That poor woman. Someone needs to stop this. The hashtag #JusticeForDorothy begins trending in Chicago.
Collins receives a radio call that makes her blood run cold. All units be advised. Attorney General Michael Williams is en route to the Chicago Cultural Center for the Justice for All Gala. ETA 15 minutes. Repeat, the U.S. Attorney General will be arriving shortly.
She stares at the radio, then at Dorothy in the back seat, then at Morton, who's arguing with increasingly agitated witnesses. A terrible suspicion begins forming in her mind. Brad, she calls out. We need to talk. But Morton is in full performance mode now, basking in what he thinks is his moment of authority.
Margaret Peterson approaches the car where Dorothy sits. Through the glass, their eyes meet. Margaret mouths silently, "I called the mayor." Dorothy nods slightly, her dignity unbroken, even in handcuffs. A young man with his phone out shouts, "Ma'am, can you tell us your name?"
Dorothy looks directly into the camera, her voice carries clearly through the window. I'm Dorothy Williams. I've lived in Chicago for 50 years. I was a public school principal for 40 years. And I'm a mother of three children who serve this country.
The crowd falls silent at her words. There's something in her tone, a quiet authority that commands respect. Morton overhears and storms over. Stop talking to the media. But Dorothy continues, her voice steady.
I want everyone watching to remember this moment. Remember how quickly dignity can be stripped away. And remember that how we respond to injustice defines who we are. Black SUVs with government plates begin appearing around the cultural center. Not one or two but a convoy of five vehicles moving in perfect formation.
Secret Service agents emerge, their earpieces clearly visible, scanning the area with practiced efficiency. They're setting up a security perimeter, but they're still two blocks away. Morton remains oblivious, too focused on controlling the growing crowd to notice the federal presence materializing around him. Collins watches the SUVs with growing dread. She pulls out her phone and Googles Attorney General Michael Williams.
The first image that appears makes her stomach drop. a tall, distinguished Black man in his 40s, standing behind a podium with the Department of Justice seal. She looks at Dorothy in the car, then at the photo, then back at Dorothy. The resemblance around the eyes is unmistakable. "Oh my god," she whispers. "Dr. James Patterson, a Black professor from Northwestern University, pushes through the crowd.
He taught Dorothy's daughter, Sarah, in law school." He recognizes her immediately. Dorothy Williams, he calls out. What in God's name is happening here? Morton blocks his path.