And there I was. Grainy black and white images of me painting over my mother’s billboard while wearing Jake’s BWH cap.

“Where did you . . .” I started but stopped myself.

“After the reward was put out, the store owner across the road checked his security footage,” the policewoman said. “We recognized the lettering on the cap immediately and came here, and that’s when Mr. Brown identified you.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Oh. Oh! Is that all you have to say for yourself?” My mom sounded hysterical now. She walked forward and pointed down at the picture. “Why? Why would you do this to me?”

“Let’s just all calm down here,” Xander interrupted. “Let’s all take a deep breath and talk this through calmly.”

“I agree with Xander,” the principal said, looking at me. “We would all just like to understand why you did this.”

“Yes, Lori! Why?” My mom was crying now, and all I wanted to do was roll my damn eyes at her. Maybe even pull them out of my head and chuck them at her, to snap her out of this dramatic soap-opera moment she was clearly indulging in.

And now the policewoman put another file down on the desk. I flipped it open and was confronted by my other art. The crack, Rose, Natasha.

“Did you do those too?” my mother asked in a shocked voice.

“Yes.” The word came out softly at first, as if I wasn’t quite ready to own it yet. But the truth was, I was ready to own this. I had done this. And I didn’t regret it. I stood up, pushed the chair aside, and looked my mother straight in the eye. “Yes,” I said, louder this time. “I did do those. And I would do them all over again.”

“Lori.” My mom threw her hands in the air. “What’s going on with you? Since coming to Cape Town you have been running around, disappearing at night—what has gotten into you?”

I looked at her and shook my head. I didn’t know what to say to her anymore, really. No matter what I said, nothing seemed to penetrate that fake, plastic surface of hers.

I turned and looked at the police officer now, and even though my heart was pounding, I took a deep breath and pulled every last ounce of courage in the world toward me. “I know what I did was illegal, and I’m ready to face whatever the consequences are, but, you must know that I don’t regret doing it at all.”

The calmness in my tone almost frightened me. I was so cool and collected, like I was channeling this power from somewhere. No, not from somewhere. I was channeling the power of all those people at Natasha’s vigil. Their energy was flowing through me now, just like the paintings had.