In the week that followed, the sheriff closed in on Paul’s trail. A man fitting his description was picked up after an intensive look at transactions at a convenience store, and incriminating messages were traced to his number. He’d been using the pretense of community help to exploit desperate people for cash—playing a disgustingly simple hustle on the vulnerable. The charges would take time to process, and legal systems trudged at a pace that demanded patience. But the arc leaned toward justice.
For Tessa, things changed incrementally. She got a caseworker, a small stipend, and the names of people she could call. Mark and I sat with her at an intake appointment and answered questions the social worker had, and for once my job felt less like survival and more like real care. She cried so
