"Two of them pulled me out of the flow of traffic. They kept my CiD and started going through it. They searched my bag, too, and then they called a lady over to pat me down."

A rare flash of anger and disgust darkens her face for a moment. "And then they asked me like a million questions. About everything. My job, how long I've been there, how long I've been in the city, do I know anybody causing trouble, do I like where I work, where do I live, they asked about my dog... they even asked me if this was my real hair color, can you believe them?"

She takes another sip. "But I noticed the way they were questioning me. Lots of questions, jumping all over the place with what they were asking me about, while they were checking out my CiD. Like they were trying to distract me. That's why I was paranoid about using the voice or video to get a hold of you earlier. I was so mad about it all and I didn't know if they'd done something, like if they'd be watching to see what I did when they let me go. I figured I couldn't fail any tests with a text message. No context, no picture of my face to show I was still mad or disapproved or whatever."