to, based solely on the malicious, racially motivated hysteria of a woman who does not even

own this property."

Chapter 6: The Unraveling of Eleanor Rigby

The two police officers stood frozen, looking as though they would rather be anywhere

else on the planet, perhaps facing an armed robbery rather than the wrath of their ultimate

boss. The older officer swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"Madam Mayor," he began, his voice lacking any of the authoritarian bark he had used

on Marcus just moments before. "We received a priority call from dispatch. The caller

stated there was an aggressive intruder on the premises who was threatening her and

refusing to leave. We were instructed to secure the scene."

Mayor Vance’s eyes narrowed. She turned her gaze to Eleanor Rigby, who was still

leaning against the police cruiser, looking as though she might faint. The pastel pink

cardigan suddenly seemed less like a symbol of suburban respectability and more like a

clown costume.

"Is that right?" the Mayor asked, stepping slowly toward Eleanor. "You called 911 and

reported an 'aggressive intruder'? You claimed my son threatened you?"

"I... I..." Eleanor stammered, her mind racing desperately for an excuse, a way to

backtrack, but finding nothing but dead ends. "He didn't look like he belonged here. I was

just trying to protect the neighborhood. You have to understand, we've had package

thefts..."

"Package thefts," Mayor Vance repeated, her tone dripping with absolute disgust. "My

son is an honors student, wearing a button-down shirt, eating a taco in his best friend's

backyard in broad daylight. And your first instinct, upon seeing a Black teenager in your

vicinity, is to assume he is a criminal and weaponize the police against him."

"No! That's not—I'm not racist!" Eleanor blurted out, relying on the classic defense

mechanism of the guilty. "I didn't know who he was!"

"That is precisely the point," Mayor Vance countered, her voice rising in volume,

echoing off the large houses surrounding them. "You didn't know him. You didn't speak to

the hosts. You didn't ask questions. You looked at the color of his skin, made an ugly, hateful

assumption, and decided his life was worth risking to assuage your own baseless paranoia."

She gestured sharply to the officers. "Do you realize what could have happened here

today? If my son had panicked? If he had argued back? Because of a false police report, you

put a child in mortal danger."

At that moment, the front door of the Harrington house flew open, and Mr. and Mrs.

Harrington rushed out, looking thoroughly bewildered. They had been in the basement

adjusting the sound system and had completely missed the drama until a frantic teenager

ran down to alert them.

"What is going on out here?" Mr. Harrington demanded, taking in the police cruisers and

the Mayor standing in his driveway.

Leo ran over to his parents, his face flushed with anger and tears. "Dad, Mrs. Rigby

called the cops on Marcus! She lied and said he was attacking her, and they put him in

handcuffs!"

Mr. Harrington, a wealthy corporate lawyer who had heavily contributed to Mayor

Vance's campaign, turned a shade of deep purple. He looked at Eleanor Rigby with absolute

revulsion.

"Eleanor, are you out of your mind?" Mr. Harrington yelled. "Marcus is a guest in my

home! How dare you call the police to my property and harass our guests? We have