Left him messages. He’s at a conference in DC. Well, don’t give up. The science fair committee still wants your entry next week. Devon nods. I’ll need to rebuild everything from scratch. During lunch, Devon’s phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. Your project marked for disposal tomorrow morning. Security protocol. Sorry, friend at courthouse. Friend at Devon’s heart races. Months of irreplaceable air quality data gone. He tries calling his father again. Voicemail.
After school, Devon returns to the courthouse. The security guard, different from yesterday, stops him. I need to speak with Judge Harmon. Devon says firmly. Judge left for the day. Come back tomorrow. This can’t wait. My property is scheduled for disposal. The guard shrugs. Nothing I can do. Devon spots Officer Briggs down the hall. Officer Briggs, a moment, please. Briggs approaches reluctantly. What now, kid?
My project is scheduled for disposal tomorrow. It contains irreplaceable research data. Judge’s orders. Briggs smirks. Maybe you’ll think twice before bringing suspicious devices here. Could I at least recover the data drive? It’s the small blue component. No unauthorized access to secured items. Briggs turns away. Learn your lesson and move on. Devon walks outside, fighting frustration. He calls his uncle again. They’re destroying my project tomorrow. I can’t reach dad. Document everything. His uncle advises. Names, times, what was said. I’m making calls.
That evening, Devon works furiously in his garage, attempting to recreate his project from memory and spare parts. His mother watches from the doorway. Devon. Sometimes fighting isn’t worth it. This is, Mom. Devon doesn’t look up from his work. This isn’t just about my project anymore. What is it about? Then Devon connects two wires carefully. When Judge Harmon confiscated my project, he didn’t just take a device. He tried to silence data showing his courthouse sits in a neighborhood with the worst air quality violations.
His mother’s eyes widen. You think this is deliberate? I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. What calls is Uncle James making, and will they come in time? Early morning, Devon arrives at the courthouse before it opens, carrying documentation proving his ownership of the project and its scientific purpose. He waits on the steps, reviewing the paperwork his uncle helped him prepare overnight. Judge Harmon arrives, surprise flashing across his face when he spots Devon. Mr. Taylor, persistent, aren’t you? Yes, sir. I have documentation proving my project’s legitimacy and requesting its immediate return.
Judge Harmon barely glances at the papers. File it with the clerk. I have a busy docket today. Sir, security plans to dispose of my property this morning. Not my department. Judge Harmon attempts to walk past. Devon steps sideways, remaining respectful but insistent. Your honor, I’ve documented everything that’s happened. If my property is destroyed without due process, I’ll be forced to escalate this matter. Judge Harmon’s eyes narrow. Are you threatening me, young man? No, sir. I’m exercising my rights as a citizen.
