It was happening slowly, imperfectly, but it was happening. Not everyone was thrilled.
Later that afternoon, Belle found another envelope. This one tucked under her windshield wiper, folded in quarters, written in the same tight handwriting as the last one. "Hope you're enjoying the spotlight. Don't forget, this community remembers who stirs the pot."
This time, Belle didn't save it. She snapped a photo, emailed it to Aisha, then dropped it directly into the recycling bin.
That evening, her phone rang. It was a number she didn't recognize, but it had a local area code.
"Hello, Miss Johnson?" the voice asked, calm, professional. "This is Deputy Chief Renee Harwood with the Marietta Police Department. I'd like to schedule a time to meet with you in person if you're willing."
Belle stood still in her kitchen. "What's this regarding?"
"We've reviewed the footage, the initial officer response, body cam footage, and resident statements. Internal affairs is preparing a report, but I'd prefer to speak to you directly before we finalize it." She paused, then said, "I'll make time. Would Tuesday afternoon work?"