Chapter 6 - The Camera
Officer Ross did not raise his voice. He did not have to.
“The neighbor’s camera recorded everything,” he said.
My mother shook her head. “He’s confused.”
“No,” Ross replied. “He finally remembered.”
Bertha began crying then, real tears this time, but not for Hunter. For herself.
“We didn’t mean for it to get that bad,” she blurted.
My mother turned on her. “Shut up.”
The room went still.
Officer Ross looked at Bertha. “What didn’t you mean?”
Bertha covered her mouth.
My mother tried to recover. “She’s upset. We’re all upset.”
Nurse Maya’s eyes flashed, but she stayed beside Hunter, one hand steadying his blanket.
Ross lifted the phone. The screen was angled away from Hunter, but I saw my mother’s face change as the video began to play. Whatever she saw there stripped the performance from her features. Her grief vanished. Her mouth tightened into the same cold line I remembered from childhood.
“Officer,” she said, “you don’t understand how difficult that boy is.”
I stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“Do not say another word about my son.”
Ross stepped slightly between us, not because I was wrong, but because the room was too fragile for anything more.
Bertha whispered, “Mom said he needed to learn.”
Hunter whimpered.
I turned back to him immediately and took his hand.
May you like
“No,” I said softly. “You never needed to learn fear. They needed to learn consequences.”
And for the first time since the phone call, I believed consequences might actually come.
