Here it belonged to something he had done while alive, carefully, insistently, before anyone thought there would be a camera on our street.

A producer wanted to speak to me about the records.

Reyes passed along the request and made clear that I could decline.

I asked for time to eat, rest, and read the documents first.

Nobody objected.

That small courtesy gave the choice back to me.

My phone lit with Troy’s name while the report was playing again.

I turned it face down.