The hallway was quiet except for the hum of the police radio on Miller’s shoulder.

A burst of static came through, a voice talking about a black Ford Explorer blocked at the alley exit.

Derek took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling.

He looked at Carl, then at me, and finally at the two officers.

“My mother did this,” Derek said.

The lobby went completely still.

Mrs. Patterson gasped softly, her hand going to her throat.

“Your mother?” Officer Miller asked, turning his full attention to the young man.

“Mallerie,” Derek said, his voice cracking slightly. “She’s my mother. Jake is my brother.”

He held up his phone so the officers could see the screen.

“I have proof,” Derek said. “I took a video of them.”

Officer Miller stepped closer, his boots squeaking on the wet linoleum.

“What kind of video?” Miller asked.

“From earlier tonight,” Derek said. “Before they went down there.”

Derek tapped the screen, and a video began to play.

I leaned in to watch over his shoulder.

The video was shaky, filmed from the shadow of the rear stairwell.