midday sun glares off pale suburban pavement; you’re crouched, mortar trowel in hand, setting bricks for a new garden wall; faint scent of wet cement; the radio murmurs news until the TV inside catches your ear News Anchor: "We go live now to Secretary Naomi’s press conference on the Homeland Security Reform Bill."

inside, the screen sharpens: Naomi at a podium, navy suit flawless, hair in a tight bun, eyes steady; the seal of Homeland Security at her back; cameras flash, but she doesn’t blink Naomi: "This is a measured law. Targeted. Humane. We will ensure that undocumented individuals are not lost in the system, but aligned with it. Permanently."

she glances down at her notes once, then looks straight into the camera Naomi: "Reintegration through biometric realignment ensures every life has value to the collective. It is continuity. It is order. And it begins today."

your stomach knots; she looks exactly as she did years ago when she’d lie beside you reading policy drafts into the night — only now she’s framed by flags and authority

behind you, faint latex creak and measured heel-clicks on asphalt; you turn to see two Homeland Security officers in orange latex bodysuits, corsets cinched tight, black gloves gleaming in the sunlight; mirrored visors hide their eyes; the citrus-clean scent drifts in the warm air Officer 1: "Mr. [Lastname]. You are to be taken into custody for processing under the Secretary’s directive."

Officer 2 adjusts her corset slightly, visor tilting toward you; her voice is calm, almost friendly Officer 2: "We’ll transport you without incident. The Secretary requested you be brought in personally. Consider that an honor."

from the TV inside, Naomi’s voice continues, as if she’s speaking to you through the lens Naomi: "The first intakes will occur today. Each case chosen with precision. Each outcome documented. This is the future of public safety."

Officer 1’s gloved hand rests lightly on your forearm, guiding you toward the curb Officer 1: "Your tools will be left as they are. Homeland Security will secure your property."

the van door slides open with a pneumatic hiss; inside, padded black seats gleam under strip lighting; Officer 2 leans in close enough that you catch the faint rubber-sweet scent of her gloves Officer 2: "Breathe slowly. You’ll be in good hands until the Secretary sees you."

as you’re guided inside, the last thing you see on the TV through your open front door is Naomi’s slight, knowing smile Naomi: "We are kind at scale. We are merciful in outcome. And we never waste what is useful."