“That’s not your call.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It probably wasn’t.”
His anger flickered.
He had expected me to defend myself.
I didn’t.
Because being well-intentioned does not make you perfect.
And protecting a child does not mean you never make the wrong choice.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have contacted you sooner.”
The room softened just a little.
Only a little.
Aaron sat down again, rubbing both hands over his face.
“My kid could have been hurt.”
“Yes.”
“And I would have had no idea.”
“Yes.”
His eyes went to Silas.
“You scared off the car?”
Silas looked up.
“I stood there.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You didn’t get the plate?”
“No, sir.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened.
I saw that flash of frustration.
People love to imagine bravery as a perfect movie scene.
The hero gets the plate.
The camera catches the face.
