Maya's cheeks burned, but she kept her voice level. "Actually, she works for the federal government. She's an FBI agent."
The words hung in the air for a moment. Rodriguez looked surprised. Sullivan's expression shifted from skepticism to outright derision.
"FBI agent?" Sullivan threw back his head and laughed. "Right. And I'm the director of the CIA."
Maya felt her phone buzz in her pocket—a text from her mother: Case wrapping up early, home by 4:00 p.m. How's the interview going?
If only Mom could see this, Maya thought. But her mother was probably in some important meeting dealing with real criminals. Maya was on her own.
"I understand if you don't believe me," Maya said quietly. "But it's true. My mom investigates counterintelligence cases. She travels a lot for work."
Sullivan stepped even closer, invading Maya's personal space. "Listen here, little girl. I've been doing this job longer than you've been alive. I know when someone's lying to me. Your mama ain't the FBI. She's probably some secretary or cleaning lady somewhere, and you're embarrassed to admit it."
The words hit Maya like physical blows.
Rodriguez finally stepped forward. "Derek, maybe we should—"
"Stay out of this, Rodriguez," Sullivan snapped. "I'm handling it."
Maya's hands trembled as she gathered her materials. The respectful, hopeful student was being replaced by something harder. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind: Sometimes people will try to diminish you because of how you look. Never let them succeed.
"Officer Sullivan," Maya said, her voice gaining strength. "I've been nothing but respectful to you. I showed you my permission letter and my student ID. I explained my assignment clearly. I don't understand why you're treating me this way."
Sullivan's face reddened. This kid had nerve talking back to him in front of his partner and all these witnesses. Time to show her who was really in charge.
"You know what? I think you're creating a public disturbance," Sullivan announced loudly, making sure nearby tourists could hear him. "Hand over that phone right now."
Maya's heart pounded. "Officer, I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just—"
"Don't argue with me!" Sullivan's voice boomed across the park area. "Give me the phone, or I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice."
Several tourists stopped walking and began pulling out their own phones. A middle-aged white couple exchanged concerned glances. An elderly Black man shook his head in disgust, but kept walking, unwilling to get involved.
Maya's hands shook as she reluctantly handed over her device. "This is my school project. Please don't delete it."