After the meeting, he waited until the crowd thinned before approaching Imani.
“Dr. Richardson?”
She turned.
He looked older than he had six months earlier.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Better.”
He nodded.
“I’ve wanted to say something, but I didn’t want to make you deal with me.”
“You’re here now.”
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry I waited.”
Imani said nothing.
“I keep thinking about the point where I could have stepped in,” he continued. “There were like five of them.”
“There were.”
“I tell recruits that now.”
“That’s useful.”
He looked at her carefully. “Do you forgive me?”
Imani considered the question.
“I don’t know that forgiveness is the most useful thing I can give you.”
His face fell slightly.
She continued. “I believe you told the truth when it cost you something. I believe you are trying to become the officer you should have been that afternoon. Keep doing that.”
Brennan nodded.
It was not absolution.
It was a direction.
At home that night, Maya was waiting in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal.
“You were good,” she said.
“You watched?”
“Livestream.”
Imani opened the refrigerator.
“You should have been doing homework.”
“I multitasked.”
“Badly, probably.”
Maya smiled.
Then her expression grew serious.
“Mom, are you still scared of the door?”
Imani looked toward the hallway.
“Sometimes.”
“I thought you weren’t anymore.”
“Getting better doesn’t mean never feeling it.”
Maya nodded as if storing the answer for later.
“What do you do when you feel it?”
“I open it anyway when I’m ready.”
Maya spooned cereal into her mouth.
“That sounds annoying.”