“He’s lying! He stole money from me yesterday!”
“Then let the cops check.”
I turned to the officer at the gate.
“My medication’s in her hands. The video’s on his phone. And the kid’s right here — he can say it again in front of you.”
Mark cut in, his voice soft, like he was talking to a patient.
“Tyler. Don’t be scared. You’re upset. Why don’t you go inside.”
Tyler grabbed a fistful of my shirt and didn’t move.
“Dad, she really gave me fifty dollars.”
Mark wouldn’t look at him.
“Nora. Not in front of the kid.”
I stared at Mark.
“You’re saying I’m the one making a scene?”
I counted it off for him, one word at a time.
“You put my phone in your pocket. You blocked the landline. She held my meds hostage till I apologized. You told everyone I was mixed up on my pills. You held me down and let the neighbor call 911 and let Diane tell them I hit a child.”
