"He did. But then I got angry that they might decide where I was allowed to feel safe."
Nia nodded. Mrs. Chen looked toward Nia's house. "You staying?"
"For now."
"Good. Evelyn would be unbearable if both of us left."
From across the yard, Judge Price shouted, "I can hear you." They laughed. The sheriff's department changed slowly, painfully and incompletely. An interim sheriff from another county took over after Larkin's resignation and later plea. He invited community representatives to review policy reforms, but Nia declined a permanent advisory role.
"Why?" Tessa asked.
"Because if they build accountability around one angry woman staying angry forever, the system fails the minute I get tired."
She agreed to testify, submit recommendations and help design record-preservation protocols through her professional expertise. Then she stepped back. The reforms that survived were structural.
Tactical entries required centralized digital warrant verification before deployment unless a documented emergency exception applied. Any claimed federal operation had to include an agency contact verifiable through independent channels. Body-camera data automatically mirrored to an external archive during high-risk operations. Supervisors could not disable preservation settings. Complaints involving command staff went automatically to the independent inspector general.
No rule made misconduct impossible. Rules made concealment harder. Nia believed that was the realistic goal. The county also created protections for officers who reported misconduct outside their chain of command. The program was named after Adrian Cole only after his family approved.
Some residents objected.
"He was part of it," one man said at a public meeting. "Why honor him?"
Cole's sister answered from the audience.
"We're not naming him a saint. We're naming the exit he couldn't find early enough."
The room went quiet. The measure passed.
Brass Locust became shorthand nationally for the scandal, though investigators repeatedly reminded the public that the old internal nickname referred to the original inquiry, not necessarily every later crime. Documentary producers called. Publishers called. A streaming company offered Nia a contract large enough to make her laugh out loud. She turned it down.
Tessa stared at the number. "Mom. That is a lot of money."
"It's also a lot of strangers owning how your kidnapping gets edited."
"Good point."
"You sound disappointed."
"I contain multitudes."