“These things.”
Diane looked down.
“I didn’t trust you.”
“That doesn’t automatically make the stop optional.”
She crossed her arms.
“You could have called your supervisor immediately.”
“I could have.”
“You chose not to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t get to delay every routine traffic stop until a supervisor arrives.”
Diane looked offended.
“So citizens just have no protection?”
“You have courts.”
She laughed.
“Courts?”
“Yes.”
“If you believed the stop was illegal, you could challenge it in court.”
“After you violated me?”
Nathan’s expression tightened.
“You were stopped for observable traffic violations.”
“According to you.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m supposed to just accept that?”
“On the roadside, you comply with the lawful stop. Later, you challenge the accusation.”
Diane shook her head.
“That’s authoritarian.”
Nathan looked tired.
“No. It’s how disputes are kept from turning into what happened tonight.”
Diane pointed at him.
“You turned it into this.”
Nathan nodded once.
“Okay.”
That word again.
Diane leaned back.
She suddenly felt exhausted.
“Get away from me.”
Nathan did.
The next morning, Diane’s sister picked her up.
Melissa said almost nothing during the drive.
Diane noticed.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Finally Diane said, “You’re not going to ask?”
Melissa kept her eyes on the road.
“I already saw it.”
Diane’s stomach tightened.
“Saw what?”
“The livestream.”
Diane stared out the window.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“People were supporting me.”
Melissa said nothing.
“Were they?”
“Some.”
“And?”
“Some weren’t.”
Diane crossed her arms.
“That’s social media.”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t trust comments.”
Melissa glanced at her.
Diane realized the irony.
For the past year, she had used social media videos as legal education.
Police confrontation clips.
Constitutional-rights channels.
Traffic-stop “experts.”
Videos with captions like KNOW YOUR RIGHTS BEFORE THE COPS TAKE THEM AWAY.
She had watched hundreds.
She knew phrases.
Reasonable articulable suspicion.
Probable cause.
Unlawful detention.
Fourth Amendment.