Then said, "A year ago, I thought speaking up would end my career."
Camille studied her.
"And now?"
The younger deputy smiled faintly.
"Now I think I want to become the kind of supervisor who makes it easier for somebody else to speak up."
Camille felt a wave of pride.
She nodded.
"That's a worthwhile goal."
Solis looked toward her.
Then added.
"I still wish I'd stopped him sooner."
Camille considered the words.
"I understand."
She paused.
"But what matters now is whether you act on what you learned."
Solis nodded.
"I will."
The sheriff smiled.
Then offered her hand.
Solis shook it.
It wasn't a dramatic moment.
No cameras surrounded them.
No one shouted congratulations.
But Camille believed the conversation mattered more than many public speeches.
The department's future would depend on people who understood that loyalty and accountability could coexist.
And Solis was beginning to become one of those people.
That evening, Camille returned to Evelyn Shaw's house.
The older woman had invited her to dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the appointment.
Camille decided to wear the outfit from the afternoon the Bentley was destroyed.
The oversized olive-gray jacket with its white and pale-blue panels.
The fitted striped high-neck crop top.
The long sage-green cargo maxi skirt.
The chunky white-and-gray sneakers.
The narrow brown-tinted sunglasses.
And the tiny bright-yellow triangular handbag.
She studied herself briefly in the mirror.
For a moment, the clothing brought back the confrontation.
Then she smiled.
She'd worn it to visit a friend.
There was no reason she couldn't wear it again.
She picked up her keys.
Walked outside.
And approached the black Bentley.
The windows were clean.
The paint gleamed.
And the car sat quietly in the driveway.
She opened the driver's door.
No one shouted.
No one demanded that she explain how she could afford it.
And no baton struck the glass.
Camille entered, started the engine, and drove toward Evelyn's neighborhood.
Evelyn was waiting on the porch when she arrived.
The older woman smiled broadly.
"Well, look at you!"
Camille laughed.
"Please don't start."
Evelyn stepped backward.
"Same jacket. Same skirt."
She noticed the yellow handbag.
"And the same tiny purse."
Camille grinned.
"Still holds exactly two pieces of chewing gum."
Evelyn burst out laughing.
Then looked toward the Bentley.
For a moment, her expression softened.
"Looks beautiful."
Camille nodded.
"Yeah."
The older woman stepped closer.
"You know, I was scared that day."
Camille looked toward her.
Evelyn continued.
"I kept thinking he was going to hurt you worse."
For several seconds, Camille remained quiet.
Then she reached for Evelyn's hand.
"I know."
The older woman squeezed gently.
"I'm glad you came back."
Camille smiled.
"Me too."
They walked inside together.
Dinner was waiting.
And for several hours, they talked about ordinary things.
Family.
Travel.
Old photographs.