The skills Dante had taught her making the task almost mechanical. "They're scared," Sierra said as she held the board steady. Good, Dante replied, drilling in another screw. Scared people make mistakes. Inside, they swept up glass while stepping carefully.
Sierra noticed her father examining the brick's trajectory, the angle of impact, the spray pattern of glass. You're gathering intelligence, she observed. Dante nodded. Always, just like I taught you. The cameras might have caught something maybe, but that's not what matters most.
He stood up straight. What matters is they showed their hand. Threats, intimidation, corrupt police response. It's all documented now. Sierra understood.
Every reaction revealed their opponent's character, their methods, their weaknesses. It was like sparring. You learned more from how someone attacked than from their words. They finished cleaning in silence. The boarded window made the room feel darker, but neither of them turned on more lights.
They were comfortable in shadow. Later that night, Sierra couldn't sleep. She went down to their garage dojo, the familiar space where she'd trained since childhood. The walls held photos of her father's seal team, her karate tournaments. Their family through years of discipline and growth.
She was standing there when Dante found her. He didn't speak, just moved beside her, both of them facing the wall of memories. "We don't run," Sierra said finally, her voice firm. Dante nodded. "Then we finish this all the way." The Carter's kitchen table disappeared under stacks of papers and notebooks.
Malik Jones sat nervously at one end, his hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate that Sierra had made him. His mother, Patricia, sat beside him, her face tight with worry and anger. "Take your time," Dante said quietly. His recorder sat in the middle of the table, its red light blinking. "Just tell us what happened." Malik's voice shook at first.
It started last year. Troy and his friends would follow me to my locker. They'd whisper things like monkey when teachers weren't around. He paused, looking at his mother. I didn't tell you because I thought it would make things worse.
Patricia squeezed his hand. Baby, you should have told me. They said if I snitched they'd make sure I got expelled, Malik continued. Said their dads would make it happen. Sierra wrote everything down while Dante recorded.
They'd been doing this for 3 days now, gathering statements, building their case piece by piece. "Did you ever report it?" Dante asked. "Once," Malik said. "To Mr. Whitaker." He said, "Without proof, he couldn't do anything." "But I saw him laughing with Troy's dad at the school fundraiser that weekend." The doorbell rang.