I have to see for myself. Because all I see is black on the ground, in the darkness.

When I get closer, Jamal is sitting up. Steve’s next to him. He’s reaching for Beverly, who’s slumped over.

No, no, no, no.

“Call a bus!” Officer Clyde waves wildly for everyone to put their weapons away. “Officer down! Officer down!”

He immediately begins to administer aid to Beverly. I realize I’m rocking in place, mumbling “no” over and over again and yet feeling relief at seeing Jamal unhurt at the same time. It’s all too much. Beverly is one of the best of us.

“She was taking him in,” Officer Clyde shouts at no one in particular.

There’s chaos among the officers, guns drawn, but I can’t tell who fired the shot.

Sheriff Brighton has cuffed Richard and is waving another officer to take him into a police car. Then the sheriff orders everyone, “Weapons down! Weapons down!”

Quincy is frozen, watching Beverly. I hold him while Officer Clyde continues to administer aid, trying to stop the bleeding.

Officers join in helping Beverly and clear out space for when the ambulance arrives. Jamal’s been placed in the back of a police car, cuffed, leaning on the glass, watching them help her. Our gazes meet. What does this mean?

An officer moves out of the way, and I can finally make out Beverly talking while she lies on the ground.

“It’s her shoulder,” I say to Quincy. He steps closer, but an officer pushes him back. Mama and Corinne join us. I pull Corinne close. Curve my body over hers like a protective shell. Mama puts her hand over Quincy, who’s at my side.

Pain pushes out of my chest and up through my throat, like rocks are filling me up until I can’t breathe. Helpless watching Beverly.

I expect to see relief in Sheriff Brighton’s face now that Jamal is under arrest, but he’s frantically looking between Beverly on the ground and his brother in another police car. He barely seems to register when an officer drives away with Jamal. His face looks anything but relieved.

THE TRUTH SHALL

SET US FREE

Mama, Corinne, and I are huddled in a cold conference room. Across the way is Jamal in a smaller interview room. He’s still handcuffed, but at least not in a holding cell. I feel like I’m turning sideways.

I had the same disoriented feeling seeing Quincy ride in the ambulance with Beverly: the ground pulling at me, so I don’t know what’s up or down. It didn’t help that the officers seemed just as confused.