"Then don't let what happened make you forget it."
I lowered my head.
For a long time, she held me while I cried.
I barely slept.
Each time I closed my eyes, I heard the baton strike the window.
The first crack.
Then the second.
I remembered glass scattering across my lap and Mercer's hand closing around my forearm.
I also remembered the moment he learned who I was.
The sudden politeness.
The apology.
The fear.
I couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened if Bennett hadn't checked my credentials.
Would Mercer have searched the trunk?
Would he have arrested me for obstruction?
Would his report have described the encounter as a dangerous situation in which I refused repeated orders and left him no alternative but force?
I didn't know.
And I refused to pretend I did.
But the questions mattered.
At 6:12 the following morning, I received a call from Sheriff Whitaker.
She had already been briefed.
Her voice sounded exhausted.
"Maya, I'm sorry."
I sat beside the kitchen window.
"Thank you."
She was quiet.
Then said, "I've reviewed the initial incident summary."
I looked toward the dawn light.
"And?"
She hesitated.
"Some of the statements conflict."
I wasn't surprised.
I asked whether the video and dispatch records had been preserved.
She confirmed that preservation instructions had been issued and that an independent investigative agency had been requested to review the incident.
I took a slow breath.
"Good."
Then I said something she didn't seem to expect.
"I need to recuse myself from any investigative or disciplinary decision involving my own stop."
There was a pause.
Then she answered, "I agree."
I continued.
"I can provide my account, medical records, vehicle documentation, and anything else requested. But I cannot be the person determining whether Mercer violated policy."
Whitaker sounded relieved.
"That's exactly what I hoped you'd say."
I looked toward my bruised wrist.
Then asked whether Officer Mercer remained on patrol.
She hesitated.
"He has been temporarily removed from field duties while we assess the incident."
I nodded.
"Has Bennett been separated from him?"
"Yes."
"Good."
The sheriff was quiet.
Then she said, "Maya, there's something else."
I waited.
"Mercer has requested union representation. He's also claiming he believed you were trying to conceal something in the vehicle."
I stared toward the window.
For a moment, I felt anger rise.
Then I took a slow breath.
"He's entitled to appropriate representation and a fair process."
Whitaker didn't answer immediately.
I continued.
"And the process is entitled to the truth."
She sighed.