Melissa Grant’s front door kept her on the porch long enough for PorchLight to ask whether the boy in the alley made her feel unsafe.

She stood there with two grocery bags digging into her fingers, her school tote sliding off her shoulder, and a pint of mint chip leaking into the paper sack. Her lock flashed amber instead of green.

On her phone, PorchLight was blinking an orange assembling case button. Glancing at her door lock, she pressed on the phone’s screen. It’s obviously not going to let me in until I do!

Community Alert: Unverified youth movement reported near Ash and Ninth.

Support your block. Confirm concern level.

Below that sat a grainy clip from someone’s doorbell camera. A tall boy in a black sweatshirt crossed the alley behind Melissa’s rental, one hand on a backpack strap, head down, moving with the tired pace of a person trying to get home before another adult asked him a question.

Melissa tapped the still frame and put a name to him before the app finished buffering. Isaiah Ruiz. He’d carried six tubs full of library books into Roosevelt Elementary last winter after his grandmother’s car broke down on the way to deliver them. She’d managed to pull over near the school, still too far from the entrance for her to carry the tubs with her arthritis, and the crossing patrol were no help. They’d come over to stare. Isaiah had got there within minutes on his skateboard and hauled every tub inside.

PorchLight offered three buttons.

Escalate Concern.

Monitor.

Probably Harmless.

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