“You kept it.”
“Of course.”
“You changed your lock screen.”
“Took eight years.”
“I noticed.”
Jalen laughed.
“You notice everything.”
“No.”
Her voice weakened.
“I missed plenty.”
He held her hand.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Do you regret taking the Briarwood case?”
Camille thought.
“No.”
“Even after me?”
“Yes.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I regret believing I could protect you by keeping the ugly parts of my work away from home.”
Jalen looked toward the photograph.
“You couldn't.”
“No.”
“Dad tried too.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Parents keep confusing protection with editing.”
“That’s good.”
“Write it down.”
“You're dying and still pitching lines.”
“Billable instinct.”
He laughed through tears.
Camille’s eyes closed.
Then opened again.
“Jalen.”
“Yes?”
“That day.”
He knew which.
“I wanted to hit him.”
Jalen burst out laughing.
“What?”
“Officer Brenner.”
“You never told me that.”
“I was your mother.”
“You were standing there so calm.”
“I was imagining several felonies.”
Jalen laughed until he cried.
Camille smiled.
“I thought calm was what you needed.”
“It was.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He leaned closer.
“But knowing you wanted to hit him is extremely healing.”
“Good.”
She closed her eyes.
Jalen kissed her forehead.
Camille died three days later.
At the funeral, Chief Marcus Henley attended.
Retired now.
Teresa Alvarez too.
So did Scott Brenner.
Jalen saw him near the back.
Gray-haired.
Older.
He considered being angry.
Then realized Brenner had known Camille professionally after the incident through training reform panels.
Of course he would come.
After the service, Brenner approached.
“I’m sorry.”
Jalen nodded.
“Thank you.”
Brenner looked toward the photograph of Camille near the flowers.
“She changed my life.”
Jalen almost laughed at the audacity.
Then Brenner continued:
“Not in the way people think.”
Jalen waited.
“She never once asked for me to be fired.”
“I know.”
“She asked for records.”
“Training.”
“Supervision.”
“She made it impossible for me to turn accountability into a personal fight with her.”
Jalen looked toward him.
“That sounds frustrating.”
“It was.”
They both smiled slightly.
Brenner continued:
“She was right.”
Jalen nodded.
“Yes.”
No embrace.
No grand reconciliation.
Brenner left.
Jalen watched him go.