Early morning, Devon arrives at the courthouse before it opens. He waits on the steps with documentation proving his ownership. Judge Harmon arrives, surprise flashing across his face.
“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.” Devon remains 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.” 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.” He calls for Officer Briggs to escort Devon out.
Afternoon at the courthouse. Devon sits on a bench outside Judge Harmon’s courtroom, refusing to leave. Laura Chen, a public defender, approaches and listens to his story.
She makes a call. They hurry to the basement where confiscated items are processed. Through the door window, Devon spots his project on a table.
Judge Harmon emerges from the elevator. Laura challenges him, but the judge orders them escorted out. Devon watches the judge enter the disposal room and pick up a hammer.
Outside the courthouse, Devon paces the sidewalk. Laura makes frantic calls seeking emergency intervention. Devon’s phone rings. It’s his father.
“Dad, they’re destroying my project right now.” “I know, son. I’ve been briefed. Put me on speaker.” His father’s authoritative voice fills the air.
Laura escorts Devon back inside. At security, mentioning the number changes everything. They reach Judge Harmon’s chambers. The judge stands behind his desk with the damaged project in front of him.
Judge Harmon scoffs at the call. But when he dials the number himself, his expression shifts from annoyance to shock. The color drains from his face.
