Rios came down the stairs and stood beside me. “You’re on camera,” she called through the door. Keller’s eyes cut toward my window, hate flashing hard.
“She was a liar,” she spat. “That old woman made things up.”
My voice rose before I could stop it. “She was alone,” I shouted, “and you took advantage of that!”
Keller flinched, then lifted her chin. “We kept this neighborhood safe,” she said.
Rios stepped closer. “You kept it needlessly quiet,” she replied. “There’s a difference.”
Keller tried to pull away as they cuffed her, and Don kept talking like speed could save him. Lydia sobbed, repeating, “I didn’t mean it,” over and over.
“They thought she was easy to bully.”
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When the cars finally rolled away, the street went dark again. I stood on the porch with Rios, watching taillights fade. “Was it really coordinated?” I asked, voice thin.
Rios nodded once. “They isolated her and made her look unstable,” she said. “They wanted any complaint from her to sound like a rant.” I swallowed. “Why her?” I asked.
“Because she noticed things,” Rios said. “And because they thought she was easy to bully.” I looked back at Grandma’s dark windows, feeling guilty that I’d never been aware of how difficult things were for her.
“We copied everything.”
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