Behind her, Jake was being led by another officer, his face twisted in anger.

Mallerie saw us through the glass of the lobby door.

She stopped struggling against the officer’s grip and stared straight at Carl.

Even from behind the glass, her eyes looked cold and sharp.

She looked at Derek, her expression shifting from anger to utter betrayal.

Derek didn’t look away this time.

He stood his ground, his chin up, though his hands were shaking in his pockets.

The officer pulled Mallerie forward, toward the open door of the police cruiser.

Before they reached the car, Mallerie screamed something into the wind.

The sound was muffled by the glass, but the rage in her face was unmistakable.

“She’s going to try to blame someone else,” Mr. Alvarez said. “She always does.”

“She can’t blame anyone with that video,” I said.

The front door opened again, and another officer walked in.

“We need the owner to come outside and identify the suspects formally,” the officer said.

Carl took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

“I’m ready,” Carl said.