The judge steps closer. Let me be clear. You have no power here. I decide what happens in my courthouse. The courthouse belongs to the people, your honor. Judge Harmon’s face flushes. You need a lesson in respect, Officer Briggs. Briggs approaches from security. Yes, your honor. Mr. Taylor here is causing a disturbance. Please escort him out. I’m standing on public property with legal documentation, Devon says calmly. Judge Harmon points at Devon’s papers. Those look like falsified court documents to me. Confiscate them.
Briggs hesitates. Sir, you heard me. Those papers could be fraudulent. Devon holds the documents tightly. They’re notarized copies of my property ownership and scientific grant documentation. Judge Harmon leans close. You think you’re smart? You think papers will save you? You’re nothing here. Remember that. A courthouse administrator approaches. Judge Harmon, there’s a call for you. They say it’s urgent. The judge backs away. This isn’t over. He follows the administrator inside.
Devon waits until they’re gone, then turns to Officer Briggs. I just want my project back before it’s destroyed. Briggs looks uncomfortable. Kid, drop this. He won’t let it go, and neither will I. Why are you following his illegal orders? Devon asks quietly. Briggs glances around, then lowers his voice. Look, I’ve got 3 years until retirement. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Is your pension worth destroying evidence of environmental discrimination? Briggs doesn’t answer, but his expression speaks volumes. Who made that urgent call to Judge Harmon? And what’s coming next?
Afternoon at the courthouse. Devon sits on a bench outside Judge Harmon’s courtroom, refusing to leave until someone addresses his property claim. Several attorneys pass by, looking at him curiously. One stops, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes. You’ve been here all day, court business, trying to recover my confiscated property before it’s destroyed. She sits beside him. I’m Laura Chen, public defender’s office. What property? Devon explains the situation, showing her his remaining documentation. Judge Harmon. She shakes her head. He has a reputation. Let me make a call.
While she steps away, Devon checks his phone. Still no response from his father, but a text from his uncle reads, “Hold tight. Help coming.” Laura returns. “I’ve spoken with court administration. Your project has already been moved to disposal, but we might be able to intervene if we act now.” They hurry to the basement level where confiscated items are processed. The security officer refuses them entry without authorization. This young man’s property is being illegally disposed of, Laura argues. I have my orders, the officer replies flatly.
Through the door window, Devon spots his project on a table, partially disassembled. That’s it right there. Please, that’s months of environmental research. The officer blocks the view. Step back or I’ll have you removed. Laura pulls Devon aside. We need a judge’s order. Let me file an emergency motion. As they turn to leave, Judge Harmon emerges from the elevator. Miss Chen, slumming with the troublemakers today. Your honor, this young man’s property is being improperly disposed of. I’m filing for an emergency stay. Judge Harmon laughs. Save your paperwork. That device was deemed a security risk by me personally.
