“I should have done this sooner,” Vivian said. “I’m sorry it took me this long.” Zara opened the door wider. “Come in. They sat at the kitchen table. Viven set the casserole down, chicken and rice still warm, and placed the USB drive beside it with the careful deliberateness of someone handing over something that mattered.
“I have lived in this neighborhood 31 years,” Vivien said. She folded her hands on the table and looked at Zara directly. “I have watched that man, Voss. I have watched him work this neighborhood for a long time. And I have seen things I did not know what to do with.” “What kind of things?” Zara asked. Twice, Vivien said.
Two separate times on our street, two different families. She nodded toward the USB drive. I recorded both of them. I filed reports both times and was told the matters had been reviewed and resolved. They were not resolved. Nothing happened. She paused. I kept the recordings because I did not know what else to do with them.
