back at the station."
Jenkins hesitated for a moment before turning on her heel and marching back to her cruiser.
Miller watched her go, then turned his attention back to Marcus.
"I am so sorry about this, Marcus," Miller said, his voice full of genuine regret. "She's new, but
that's no excuse. I'll make sure this gets handled."
Marcus nodded, still trying to process the anger and humiliation that warred inside him.
"Thanks, Miller. I appreciate it."
"You alright?" Miller asked, gesturing to Marcus's wrists.
"I'll live," Marcus said, picking up the trash bag and tossing it into the bin. "Just another day in
the neighborhood, right?"
The next morning, the neighborhood was buzzing. Word of the incident had spread quickly, as
things always did in close-knit communities. Marcus arrived at the community center to find a
small crowd gathered outside, murmuring in hushed tones.
"Marcus, we heard what happened," Mrs. Higgins, a long-time resident, said, stepping forward.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Higgins," Marcus assured her, forcing a smile. "Just a misunderstanding."
But it wasn't just a misunderstanding, and everyone knew it. It was a symptom of a larger
problem, a disconnect between the community and the people sworn to protect it. As Marcus
walked through the doors of the center, he knew he couldn't just let it go.
That evening, Marcus sat at his desk, staring at a blank piece of paper. He needed to do