Fifth Amendment.
Qualified immunity.
Pennsylvania v. Mimms.
Although, until last night, she had believed that case meant officers could not make her exit.
She had never actually read the case.
Only comments beneath videos arguing about it.
Melissa finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you just give him your license?”
Diane laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“He had no right.”
Melissa glanced at her.
“Your lawyer said that?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“Then who told you?”
Diane did not answer.
Melissa sighed.
“TikTok?”
“No.”
“Facebook?”
“It’s law.”
“Did you read the law?”
Diane turned toward her.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Diane hesitated.
Melissa nodded.
“Okay.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Melissa stopped at a red light.
“You called me at six in the morning asking me to pick you up from jail because you refused to show a police officer your license.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then what happened?”
Diane began explaining.
The missing plate.
The signal.
The accusation about crossing the center line.
The window.
The demands.
The broken glass.
The arrest.
Melissa listened.
When Diane finished, Melissa asked one question.
“How many times did he ask you to get out?”
Diane looked away.
“I don’t know.”
“More than once?”
“Yes.”
“More than five?”
“Probably.”
“More than ten?”
Diane said nothing.
Melissa pulled into Diane’s driveway.
The tow yard had released the SUV after the family paid the fees.
The broken driver’s window was covered in plastic.
Diane stared at it.
Melissa parked.
“I’m sorry this happened.”
Diane turned toward her.
“You think it was my fault.”
“I think it didn’t have to happen.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
Diane got out.
For the next three days, she barely left the house.
The video spread faster than she expected.
The original livestream had been saved.
Someone clipped the moment Nathan warned her repeatedly.
Another clip showed her saying, “You wouldn’t dare,” seconds before the glass shattered.
That became the most popular one.