“But look at it. Julian said it was practically falling apart.”
“It is.”
“How does a new wheelchair get into that condition in eight months?”
“That,” Daniels said, “is what Mr. Ortiz would like to understand.”
Julian looked more troubled by this than he had been by the possibility of vandalism.
“He didn’t know?”
“Apparently not.”
Daniels moved toward the porch.
“We’re not formally transporting you anywhere. We offered to bring you because Mr. Ortiz is at the community center with a school administrator, and he was concerned you might not answer a call from an unknown number this early.”
“Why the community center?”
Officer Cooper opened the door.
“Because somebody else came forward during the night.”
“Who?”
“A woman who used to work for the organization that provided Maya’s previous chair.”
I stopped.
“What did she say?”
Daniels looked back at us.
“She said Maya isn’t the first child whose equipment deteriorated unexpectedly.”
