Patricia walked with her head up, her leather handbag dangling uselessly from her cuffed wrists, her eyes fixed straight ahead on the street outside.

Her linen trousers brushed the automatic glass doors as they slid open and let her out into the cold Virginia wind.

Derek watched his mother disappear through the sliding doors.

Two more officers stepped up behind him, turned him around, and secured his wrists in silver cuffs.

He didn’t say a single word on the ride to the precinct.

I followed the police transport in Rebecca’s unmarked sedan.

We parked in the secure lot behind the station.