“Oh, man!” Yonkie turned away, then faced him again. His face was moist and flushed. “You know, they’re going to talk against you. About how you’re picking on your own people because we’re easy targets. Eema’s going to take a lot of flak. If you had to do this, why did you come personally? To show your bosses that you’re not biased? You should be biased. You should have excused yourself. You should be at Beckerman’s or Foreman Prep. Or do the rich get special privileges?”

Yonkie was a mass of burning indignation, and Decker tried to take it in stride. What had to be done, had to be done. But the words hurt more than he’d like to admit. “I’m not responding to this. You’d better go back to class—”

“It’s not enough that they snicker behind your back,” Yonkie shot out. “You have to make me and Eema and Hannah pariahs as well?”

The barbs cut deep. Such venom from the mouth of a child that he had raised and had taken on as his own. “Jacob, I’m sorry that my position as a cop put you at odds with your friends. But it can’t be helped. I really have to go.”

“Where are you going?” Yonkie demanded to know.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to Foreman Prep.”

The boy was quiet, his mind tumbling for something to say. He had reddened with embarrassment. “So you’re like…checking out all the schools?”

Decker offered him a tolerant smile. “I’m checking out everything. The vandalism was vicious. It qualifies as a hate crime that carries extra weight and extra punishments. I’d like to nab the perps. I assume you’d like that, too. That much we can agree upon. Good-bye.”

Jacob blurted out, “Did I just put my foot in my mouth?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The boy turned his head away but didn’t move. “I used to keep my mouth shut. I never spoke my mind no matter what I was thinking.” He scratched his face. Bits of beard stubble were shadowing his cheek and it irritated him. Jacob used to have a stunning complexion. Porcelain smooth with hints of red at the cheekbones. His skin was still blemish free, but coarser now, like that of a young man. “What the hell happened to me?”

“You had secrets, and were afraid to talk. Now you don’t have secrets. The trade-off is a big mouth. It’s fine, Jake. I’m a tough guy; I can take a little sassing. I’ll see you at home tonight.”