Her clerk looked.
“She’s pretty.”
“That is not the issue.”
“I’m trying to help.”
The judge rubbed her forehead.
A headline called her “a Supreme Court judge.”
She was not.
Another called her a prosecutor.
Another claimed the officer had pulled her from the vehicle and handcuffed her.
False.
Her clerk asked:
“Should we correct?”
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“The court’s communications office can confirm my title if necessary.”
“What about everything else?”
“Professional Standards can investigate.”
Her clerk stared.
“You’re very calm.”
“No.”
The judge looked toward her.
“I am behaving calmly.”
The distinction mattered.
That evening she drove home in a rental vehicle.
The sedan remained at an evidence-certified repair facility until the damaged assembly could be documented.
She entered her apartment.
Removed her heels.
Dropped her handbag onto a chair.
Then stood in the kitchen without moving.
Silence.
No courthouse marshal.
No clerk.
No sergeant.
No cameras she knew about.
Only then did her hands begin to shake.
She looked at them.
Anger.
Delayed.
She pressed both palms against the countertop.
The officer’s flashlight striking the taillight replayed in her head.
Again.
Again.
Not because the damage was severe.
The repair would cost less than one hour of some attorneys’ billing.
Not because she feared losing the traffic case.
There would be no traffic case.
It was the ease.
The absolute ease.
He had created reality with one strike.
Then started writing it down.
That frightened her.
She poured water.
Did not drink.
The phone rang.
Her mother.
She stared.
Declined.
Immediately it rang again.
Her mother never accepted decline as a technological concept.
The judge answered.
“Hi.”
“What happened?”
“I’m fine.”
“That is not what I asked.”
The judge closed her eyes.
News had reached her mother in North Carolina.
Of course.
“Officer stopped me.”
“I saw that.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because television is stupid.”
Fair.
The judge explained.
Her mother stayed silent until the end.
Then:
“Did he know you were a judge?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The judge frowned.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because now nobody can say he only treated you badly because he hated judges.”