Amara's day

Today's job: An older man named Clarence from the diner network called Amara about his grandson, fourteen, who'd been accused of stealing at a Foot Locker in Harlem. The store had a photo of him on the wall and banned him, but Clarence said his grandson was framed—a group of kids ran out together and only his got singled out. Amara went to the store, asked to speak to the manager, reviewed the security footage in his office. The angle didn't match what the store claimed. She photographed the footage on her phone, called Clarence's lawyer with the evidence. The store manager backed down within two hours. Clarence paid her five hundred dollars and pressed cash into her hand like she was family.

Bigger story: That afternoon, Amara went back to the school. She waited outside the gates, not hiding, just standing there with coffee like she belonged. When Destiny came out she walked up to her—not threatening, not looming, just direct. Said her name. Said she'd been hired by the Hargroves. Said she didn't believe their story and she needed to know what actually happened to Margot. Destiny looked at her like she'd grown a second head. She said, "I'm not supposed to talk to anyone." Amara said she understood. She wrote her number on the back of a business card and handed it over. "I'll wait."