There was no evidence of a staged event.

Just Poppy standing in pink sneakers, holding out her hand to a stranger.

I watched the footage once at Maya’s office.

The image was grainy, but I recognized Poppy’s impatient little bounce, the same one she did while waiting for pancakes.

I recognized myself, too, a bent woman a few paces behind her, holding a shopping basket.

“What happens now?” I asked.

“The recording can help rebut an accusation if one is formally made,” Maya said.