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My father sighs. “All right. We’re done here. Officers, thank you very much. If you have any further questions, here’s my card.” He produces two business cards from his breast pocket, hands them over, and opens his palm toward the door, a clear indication of the direction they should head. Officer Lawrence turns and walks out like an obedient child. Officer Garcia, however, lingers behind. Her sharp brown eyes assess the three of us, not unkindly, but not in a friendly way, either. I get the sense she’s trying to decide whether or not to say something she might regret. “When he wakes, Officer Cox may very well want to press charges.” My father calmly says, “That stupid f**k is going to be facing so many charges of his own, he won’t have time to think about anything else.” Garcia slowly
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