Chapter 4 The Cost of an Apology

I looked at my mother's wrist. There was a red mark circling around it, digging deep into her skin.

A police officer walked over. "What happened? Who did this?"

The middle-aged man stepped forward, his tone immediately softening. "Officer, it was just a misunderstanding. The security guard must've made a mistake. We were only concerned about the committee's safety. She's fine. An apology should settle it."

The officer ignored him and turned to my mother. "Ma'am, you tell me. What happened?"

My mother tugged her sleeve down over her wrist. "It's nothing, officer. Everyone meant well. They were worried there might be bad people."

She paused. "I'm not hurt."

The officer glanced at her wrist, and then at the dried cranberries and walnuts scattered across the ground.

He said nothing.

The younger officer who had come with him went through the things that had spilled from my mother's bag.

Dried cranberries. Walnuts. Dried mushrooms. Knitted socks. Two food containers, one filled with roast beef and the other with fried chicken.

He photographed everything with his department-issued camera before straightening. "There's nothing prohibited in her bag."

He looked at the middle-aged man and the other residents. "Who called the police?"

The security guard spoke up sheepishly. "I was just being cautious…"

"Do you understand that making a false police report can have legal consequences?" he questioned sharply.

All color drained from the guard's face as he blurted, "Officer, I didn't mean to. I was just concerned about the community's safety."

The officer didn't bother dignifying that with a response. He simply turned to me and asked, "Would you like to settle this here, or do you want to come to the station?"

I looked at my mother. Her head was hung low as she tried to tie the strap of her canvas bag. It had snapped during the altercation. She tied two knots before slinging the bag over her shoulder.

"Let's go, Sylvia. Let's go home," she murmured softly. "It's cold outside."

I turned around. "Let's settle it here."

The officer nodded. "All right. Here's our number. Contact us if you need any help."

He glanced at the people around us. "If anyone owes her an apology, do it now and show some sincerity while you're at it."

The woman in the cashmere coat quickly said, "Sorry, ma'am." Then, she turned and left just like that.

The middle-aged man coughed awkwardly before muttering, "It was just a misunderstanding. Don't take it to heart."

He left as well.

The security guard stood off to the side, not daring to say a word.

The officers left. Soon, the area fell silent.

I crouched down and picked up the walnuts one by one, putting them back into my mother's bag.

When we got home, I hurried to pour my parents each a cup of hot water.

Then, my phone rang. It was the construction crew.

I answered.

"Ms. Lind, we're at the East Gate. Should we start taking it down, or talk to property management first?"

I glanced out the window.

The sun was already sinking toward the horizon, its light angling through the glass and falling across the floor.

"Take them down now."

"All six?"

"All of them."

"Got it."

I hung up.

My mother looked at me. "Who was that?"

"The construction crew. The old access-control system has been acting up, so I asked them to come take a look at it."

My mother nodded and didn't ask any more questions. She picked up her cup and took a sip of hot water.

The sun sank a little lower outside the window.

My phone rang again about ten minutes later. It was the property manager.

I answered.

"Ms. Lind!" His voice was tight. "The construction crew is here. They say they're taking down the access-control system. What's going on?"