If he saw me, he’d stop me.

Leaning against a light pole, I tried to sort the people into groups. The lawyers were easy. They carried briefcases and files, and huddled with people that looked like clients. I knew enough about court to know they weren’t the killers or the rapists—they’d come later, shackled and under guard. What troubled me were the reporters. They stood by a line of news trucks, and I knew they were here for my brother. Details of Tyra’s death remained thin, but the rest of it made a hell of a story. Bikers. Guns. A cop’s kid.

“Jeez, look at these people.”

I turned at the voice, and found Chance at my right shoulder. “Why do you always sneak up on me like that?”

“Because you make it so easy.” He leaned against the other side of the pole, dipping his head at the crowd. “Those are people you never want to see late at night or moving in next door. Jesus. Look at them.” He pointed toward the crowd. “Hey, we know those guys.”

He meant the last group, and one I’d tried hardest to ignore: mothers, fathers, people who knew my family. “Moral support, I guess.”

“Don’t believe it for a second. They’re here for the show. Look at that one. He’s laughing. Fat bastard just told a joke.”

I watched the big man shake. He’d been my football coach in sixth grade.

“They’re opening the doors. Let’s go.”

Chance pulled me across the street, and we followed the crowd through double doors and into a long hall. I counted eight courtrooms. Almost everyone made their way to number six. I looked for my father, but didn’t see him.

“There, that’s a good spot.” Chance pointed at a crowded bench near the front. We took seats on the aisle, and I wondered if this was the same courtroom where Jason had made his plea and been sent away. I thought it was. It felt the same.

After a few minutes, an armed bailiff led the judge into the room, waiting for him to ascend the bench, then calling court to order. “All rise.” People stood, and then sat, and I thought how like church it was, the same rustle and sigh, the roomful of sinners staring up.

“Good morning.” The judge settled like a king on his throne. “We have a lot of cases on the docket, so I’ll try to move things along as quickly as possible. Bailiff.” He gestured, and a second bailiff unlocked a door so other armed men could bring out the prisoners slated to face the most serious charges of the day. A line of them emerged, all in orange jumpsuits, all cuffed. Jason was the last out and the only one in full chains.

“There’s your old man.”