“I’m so sorry,” the mayor continued. “I really didn’t think he would take it this far.”
I could have gotten mad, shouted, vented out all the fear I had in that moment. And part of me really wanted to do that. But the other part of me—the part that knew that even the best intention can go really wrong—knew that would do no good, and that we’d go further with forgiveness than with anger. So I said, “It’s okay. We can’t control what other people do.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
The look of relief on the mayor’s face was a gift to me, and when he reached out to shake my hand, I hugged him. Then I asked, “Now, what do we do?”
“Now, we go out and face these bastards.” The mayor was looking out the window, and I could imagine him putting his hands to his hips to check his
