And this time we'll be ready for their tactics. Isaiah's gaze drifted to the window, watching the city. Wake up outside the same city that had betrayed him, but also the city he'd tried to protect. Somewhere out there, families were living in those buildings, facing the same dangers he'd documented years ago. Maya watched him carefully, recognizing the weight of memory and responsibility in his silence.
Finally, she asked the question that would determine everything. "Do you still have proof? " Isaiah's hands tightened on his knees and he hesitated. The fluorescent lights of the police precinct buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across Lieutenant Sloan's office. She stood behind her desk, arms crossed, watching Officer Ror pace like a caged animal. ""Stop moving," she ordered. "You're giving me a headache. " Ror halted, but his jaw worked back and forth.
That judge had no right to interfere. I was doing my job. "Your job? " Sloan's voice was ice cold. Your job was to maintain order, not create a spectacle that landed on a federal judge's radar. She picked up a report form.
Now sit down. We need to get our story straight. Ror dropped into a chair, still fuming. What's there to get straight? That bum was being disorderly.
That bum has a name. Sloan cut in. Isaiah Boon. And thanks to your little power trip, I had to spend my morning making calls about him. " She tapped her keyboard, bringing up a file. "Former city inspector started causing problems a few years back, making accusations about building code violations, mental health issues, paranoid delusions about being followed, lost his job, his family, ended up on the streets. " "Perfect," Ror said, leaning forward.
"So, he's unstable if we play it right. " Sloan turned the monitor so he could see. I'm writing it up as a welfare check gone wrong. You noticed concerning behavior. Attempted to direct him to services. He became agitated.
Combative. He wasn't combative. Ror protested. He just sat there being what? Defiant.
Threatening. Sloan's smile was sharp. Write it how you need to. Just make sure it matches the narrative we're building. Across town, Maya Bennett was hitting walls.
She stood outside a coffee shop near the morning's incident, trying to convince the owner to share security footage. I'm sorry, the woman said, not meeting Mia's eyes. We had some technical issues this morning. System crashed. Lost everything.
Maya noticed the woman's hands fidgeting with her apron. That's interesting because I can see your cameras working fine right now. Look, I can't help you. The owner glanced toward the street. Please don't ask me again.
Maya stepped outside, frustration building. Three businesses, three similar stories. The bookstore's cameras had mysteriously malfunctioned. The bank's footage was accidentally overwritten. The parking garage had routine maintenance that morning.