Nia's papers slipped from Trevor's grip and scattered. The scene from 36 hours earlier had arrived. Only now the viewer knew what had led to it. Nia looked toward the awning. A dozen adults watched.
No one moved. Let go of me, Trevor. Madison kept filming. Ryan laughed. Trevor looked toward the witnesses.
Everything's fine. Nobody contradicted him. Then a voice came through the rain. No. Nia's heart stopped. Naomi stood at the far end of the courtyard.
Faded navy EMT pants. Old black jacket. Worn sneakers. Battered bag over one shoulder. Rain darkened her clothes.
Exhaustion marked her face. But her eyes were clear. Nia stared. How did you? Naomi didn't answer.
She had woken to find the apartment empty. Nia's appeal folder gone. The threatening messages still open on the phone back up. She had taken the fastest route she knew. Now she looked at Trevor's hand around her sister's wrist.
Nothing else. Trevor glanced at Naomi and laughed. You serious? Naomi walked forward. Let her go.
Ryan stepped toward her. You should leave. Naomi ignored him. Madison aimed the camera at her. Trevor looked Naomi up and down.
You came all the way here dressed like that. Nia felt anger rise. Naomi did not. Her hands stayed open. Her shoulders loose.
Her gaze measured the whole courtyard once. Ryan. Derek. Madison. Ashley.
Trevor's grip. Distance. Exits. Wet stone. Witnesses.
Then back to Trevor. Let her go. Trevor grinned. Or what? Ashley whispered.
Trevor. He snapped. Stay out of it. Naomi took one step closer. Trevor tightened his grip.
Nia flinched. Naomi's face changed. Not rage. Something colder. Controlled.
Last time. Trevor raised his chin. You don't give orders here. Naomi's voice dropped. You've got three seconds.
Rain hammered the metal awning. Nobody laughed now. Three. Ryan's expression shifted. Two.
Ashley stepped back. Trevor. Let her go. He looked at Naomi. Pride overruled judgment.
He pulled Nia toward him. What happens at one? Naomi said it. One. Ryan moved first.