Kendrick rubbed his sore wrists, his face an unreadable mask. Before Officer Collins could retreat to his cruiser, a sleek black sedan turned the corner and screeched to a halt right behind the police car.
Lisa Thompson stepped out. She was dressed in a sharp, tailored business suit, her eyes blazing with an intensity that made the air feel thin. She took one look at her son, saw the red marks on his wrists, and looked at the police officer.
"Mom," Kendrick said quietly. "I'm okay."
Lisa didn't look at Kendrick; she walked directly up to Officer Collins. "I am Lisa Thompson. I am this young man's mother, and I am a civil rights attorney. I want your name, your badge number, and your supervisor's direct line. Right now."
Collins turned pale. Melissa, who had paused on her porch, quickly hurried inside and locked her door. Lisa turned to the crowd of neighbors holding their phones. "Did anyone get this on video?" she asked clearly. Several hands shot up.