Angela's palms slapped against the counter. They could have hurt you. What if your father hadn't been there? What if? She stopped, pressing her lips together as tears threatened to spill.
Reginald set down his fork. Angela, sit down, please. We need to discuss this calmly. Calmly? She whirled to face him.
That woman hired thugs to terrorize our son. There's nothing calm about that, Mom. Malik's voice was soft. He'd rarely seen his mother this angry, and it scared him a little. Angela took a deep breath and finally sat down at the table.
Her hands were shaking as she reached for her water glass. "I'm sorry, baby. I just When I think about what could have happened, but it didn't," Reginald said firmly. And now we need to think strategically about our next steps. Strategic?
Angela's laugh was bitter. Like we were strategic about moving to this neighborhood, checking crime statistics, researching school districts, making sure it was safe. She made air quotes around the last word. Malik set his fork down with a clatter. Maybe we should just move.
No. Reginald's voice was quiet but absolute. We're not running. That's exactly what they want. Then what are we supposed to do? Malik burst out.
His fear and frustration finally boiled over. What happens next time? What if they really try to take me? What if they follow me when I'm alone? Or his voice cracked.
Angela reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Baby, look at me. We won't let that happen. Your mother's right, Reginald said. But we need to be smart about this.
Linda Whitfield isn't just some random racist. She's calculating those men today. That was a test. She wanted to see how we'd react. And how should we react?
Angela demanded. Because right now, I want to march over there and show her exactly what happens when she threatens my child. Malik couldn't help but smile a little at that. His mom might be a nurse dedicated to helping people, but she was also fierce when it came to protecting her family. "We document everything," Reginald said.
He pushed back from the table and stood up. "Every incident, every interaction, every witness. We build a case like you used to do?" Malik asked. He'd heard stories about his dad's FBI days, though Reginald rarely talked about them directly.
Exactly like that. Reginald left the kitchen and returned a moment later with a leather briefcase Malik had never seen before. He set it on the table and opened it carefully. What's all this? Angela leaned forward, curious despite her anger.