Chapter 4 - The Police Report
At 3:00 PM, Sophia was safely at her after-school art club, and I sat across a sterile metal desk from Officer Marcus Vance (no relation, thankfully) at the local precinct.
I laid out the evidence with surgical precision.
I placed the original receipt for the $1,842.63 custom prom dress on the desk. Next to it, I slid printed photographs of the garment before it left the garment bag, followed by the gruesome after-shots of the shredded satin, fake blood stains, and cut sleeves. Finally, I handed over a printed flash drive containing the high-definition security camera footage of my mother letting Melissa into my house with a spare key.
Officer Vance scrolled through the video frames on his monitor, his eyebrows lifting higher with every click.
“So your sister entered your residence without permission using a key provided by your mother, removed a high-value item belonging to a minor, and intentionally ruined it,” he summarized, looking up at me.
“Correct,” I said. “My mother admitted verbally to orchestrating and covering up the entry.”
“In the state of Florida, unauthorized entry with intent to commit a crime—even petty theft or criminal mischief—is a felony burglary charge, Ms. Reyes,” the officer noted, tapping his pen. “Given the retail value of the dress exceeds one thousand dollars, the destruction of property constitutes grand theft and criminal mischief in the second degree. Do you wish to press full charges against both individuals?”
My heart gave a heavy thud. Pressing felony charges against my own sister and my elderly mother was a heavy cross to bear. It would burn every remaining bridge. It would ensure years of family warfare.
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I thought of Sophia standing frozen with her paper plate, her voice a mere whisper of defeat. I thought of every birthday, every cupcake, every instance where I had taught my daughter that her feelings didn't matter just to keep the peace.
“Yes,” I said steadily. “I want to press full charges.”
