“A report of what?” Marcus pressed as he stooped to gather Aisha’s belongings, one hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.

Daniels hesitated. His authority, so unquestionable a moment ago, seemed to waver in the face of Marcus’s quiet confidence. “Just a suspicious activity call, sir. We have to follow up on these things.”

Marcus nodded, understanding the challenges of their job but unwilling to let this slide. “Suspicious, because she’s sitting on a bench with a backpack? She’s fourteen. She’s my daughter. And she’s done nothing wrong.”