“Officer, there’s no need for an official incident report,” Charles said, leaning toward the officer with a smooth, professional smile.

“My grandson just tripped over his own feet on the heavy edge of the rug.

I have Precinct Commander Miller on speed dial, and he knows how easily family misunderstandings get blown out of proportion.”

Officer Miller didn’t smile back.

He looked past Charles at the floor, where Dave was cutting away the sleeve of Toby’s navy sweater with medical scissors.

“Who called nine-one-one?” Officer Miller asked.