The crowd was swelling by the minute, and the police had no intention of letting the situation spiral into a public incident. They tore down every banner Michael had hung, dispersed the onlookers, and brought us all back to the station.
The whole way there, Michael cursed me out at the top of his lungs while Officer Chavez kept pressing me to come clean about where my grandfather was.
I only had one answer, and I repeated it over and over.
"I don't know. My grandfather didn't hit anyone."
When I still refused to talk, Officer Chavez let out a sigh.
"The victim's family has already filed a lawsuit. If you won't cooperate, this is going to court."
"And when it does, the damages will be a lot steeper. Think it over."
I almost smiled.
Court sounded perfect.
Exactly what I wanted.
Soon enough, the court summons arrived. The hearing was set for three days out.
That gave me time to find a lawyer and figure out a proper defense.
But the moment I stepped out of the station, a rotten egg smashed into my forehead. The stench hit me like a wall.
A mob had gathered at the entrance, so thick that even the officers on duty couldn't hold them back.