He looked at the police station.
No, Carmen. Here it begins.
Forty-five minutes later, Don Manuel came back in.
I no longer wore the grey vest.
Now he was wearing dark blue suit and a federal badge on his belt.
No one dared to cross his path.
In the meeting room were Sergio Molina, Ricardo Cruz and Alberto Flores sitting in front of a long table.
Next to him, lawyers by trade.
Back, federal agents.
Attorney General Adrián Montes was presiding over the meeting.
“We’re not here to negotiate,” he said. We are here to show you what you did and what comes next.
Elena attached a laptop to the screen.
The park appeared.
Several shots.
The municipal chamber.
Neighbors' motives.
The recording of a retired judge filming his granddaughter without knowing he was catching a full abuse.
Javier's body camera.
Sergio approaching.
The broken newspaper.
The push.
Don Manuel on his knees.
The crying girl.
Sergio’s voice sounded clear:
People like you always think you can sit where you want.
Sergio lowered his head.
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