"You can't bully nurses."
"I didn't bully anyone."
Denise laughed from the kitchen.
"You absolutely bullied those nurses."
Carolyn ignored both children.
By spring, Daniel's face appeared across District 7.
Billboards.
Bus shelters.
Yard signs.
Digital ads.
Volunteer shirts.
Some people joked he was impossible to avoid.
Harmon Heights was especially important.
The neighborhood had once been solidly middle class.
Teachers.
Factory workers.
Postal employees.
City staff.
Then manufacturing plants closed.
Property values dipped.
Young families left.
Businesses disappeared.
But people who stayed organized.
A neighborhood credit union opened after residents complained traditional banks would not lend locally.
A community garden replaced two abandoned lots.
Churches ran after-school programs.
A barber shop hosted voter registration drives.
Daniel had represented dozens of Harmon Heights residents over the years.
Three of his campaign's most reliable volunteers lived within four blocks of Harmon Avenue.
Canvassing there was not symbolic.
It was routine.
He had walked those blocks seventeen times in six weeks.
The Tuesday everything happened, Daniel arrived at 9:07 a.m.
He parked his dark gray SUV on Harmon Avenue.
The rear cargo space contained two folding signs, boxes of brochures, bottled water, clipboards, volunteer shirts, and a portable canopy for the afternoon press event.
He called Renee while unloading materials.
"You're late," she answered.
"Good morning to you too."
"Volunteer briefing was nine."
"It's nine-oh-seven."
"Which comes after nine."
"I'm aware how time works."
"You keep proving otherwise."
Daniel smiled.
He lifted a canvas tote from the back.
"How many volunteers?"
"Eleven confirmed."
"Thought we had fourteen."
"Two are sick. One apparently forgot democracy was happening today."
Daniel laughed.
"Mayor's office?"
"Deputy chief confirmed for two."
"Press?"
"Five outlets so far."
"Local Seven?"
"Yes."
"Radio?"
"Yes."
Renee paused.
"You have your notes?"
"In my head."
"I hate when you say that."
"They're excellent notes."
"They are imaginary notes."
Daniel shut the rear hatch.
"I'm walking toward Delray now."
"Meet volunteers at Mrs. Kim's house first."
"I know."
"Daniel."
"I know."
Renee was about to respond when Daniel saw the patrol car.
It approached from behind slowly.
Not unusual.
Harmon Heights had regular patrol traffic.
Daniel continued walking.
The cruiser passed him.
Then stopped ten yards ahead.
Another police car entered the block from the opposite direction.
Daniel slowed.
Something inside him sharpened.
He had experienced enough police encounters through other people to recognize the choreography.
Two vehicles.
Opposite positions.
One officer watching.
The other preparing to make contact.
Daniel said quietly, "Renee."
"What?"
"Something's happening."
"What kind of something?"
"Police."
Renee stopped speaking.
Daniel continued.
"Let me call you back."
"Don't hang up."
He looked toward the first patrol car.
The driver's door opened.
"Renee."
"Keep the call open."
Daniel didn't argue.
He lowered the phone but did not disconnect.