Elijah paused.

That answer bothered him.

Not because he was afraid of Sullivan.

Because he had heard variations of it before.

Decades earlier.

Different street.

Different officer.

Different uniform.

Same idea.

Authority presented not as responsibility, but as a threat.

Elijah placed his hands on the roof of the sedan.

Sullivan checked his pockets.

Wallet.

Keys.

Handkerchief.

Nothing else.

"How old are you?" Sullivan asked.

"Seventy-two."

"Then you've been around long enough to know how this works."

Elijah turned his head slightly.

"I certainly have."

Something in his tone made Rachel keep recording.

CHAPTER 3 — "PEOPLE LIKE YOU"

Sullivan told Elijah to remain beside the car.

Then he returned to his cruiser.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Elijah stood quietly.

He noticed several more people watching.

The teenager outside the convenience store had also begun recording.

Sullivan returned.

"Your license checks out."

"Good."

"But I'm not finished."

"What remains?"

Sullivan looked into the car again.

"I don't like your attitude."

Elijah almost couldn't believe the sentence.

"My attitude?"

"You've questioned every instruction I've given you."

"I asked why I was stopped."

"You said I was wrong."

"I said I did not believe I crossed the center line."

"Same thing."

"No, Officer. It isn't."

Sullivan stepped forward.

"Turn around."

Elijah didn't immediately move.

"Why?"

Sullivan grabbed the front of Elijah's jacket near the collar and turned him toward the car.

Rachel gasped from across the street.

"Hey!"

Sullivan looked toward her.

"Stay back."

Elijah steadied himself against the vehicle.

He wasn't injured.

But the indignity of the gesture hit him harder than the physical force.

He turned his head.

"Officer Sullivan, take your hand off my jacket."

"I don't care who you are," Sullivan snapped. "People like you don't get to disobey orders."

Silence.

Even Sullivan seemed to realize something had changed.