Amara arrived in chaos, parents filing in and out, officers moving between rooms with clipboards, and, cutting above all of it, a boy's voice raised in anger.
"You couldn't just care about us for once? You had to make everything about you again?" Nolan was standing near the front desk, practically shouting at Justina, who stood there crying, arms wrapped around herself, saying nothing back.
It took Amara a moment to piece together what had actually happened that somehow, in the chaos and rumor of a police raid, the story had rearranged itself into something that had nothing to do with the truth.
Everyone at that station had apparently already decided Justina must have called it in again, the way she had the last time, and that assumption alone was quietly protecting her from any real consequence.
