She walked into the light of day with a fresh understanding. "Our government is complex because it must be. That is how our rights are ensured."

"And?" the researcher prodded one last time.

"And anyone who attempts to dismantle it is a traitor, and probably has something to hide."

Opening the door, she turned back one last time. "He told us he was a victim, and we believed him. But he was lying, then and always. We believed him because we wanted to believe him. But the truth is, he was the problem, and we enabled him. We handed him power, and he betrayed us."

"I don't understand," the researcher asked, playing along. "Don't you want American to be great?"

"It already is," she explained. "We have systems to ensure our survival. No one has weaponized it: it was doing what it was supposed to do. It was serving Justice to those who had done wrong."

"You can go now," he assured her. "You've learned something important here."

She gathered her things and approached the door.

"Ma'am?" he called out. "You forgot your hat."

He handed her a red hat with the words, "MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN."

She pointed to a trash bin. "It belongs there."

"Therefore, thought it is less satisfying, if we are committed to Justice, we must be patient?" she asked, searching the researchers face for validation.

"Correct," he replied, much to her relief, handing her a stack of papers, including her own release forms.

"I... I can go now?" she asked.

Her excitement reached a peak and she began to crash down under the weight of her own understanding.

"Transparency is important, but..." she was searching for the words. "But it can interfere with what must be done to seek Justice."

"Yes," the researcher softly agreed with her.

"So then," he followed up, "For a person to be prosecuted, there must be evidence, correct?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Evidence that is untainted, presented to a jury who has not seen it before?"

"Yes! Yes!" Her eyes were bright.

"And the process takes time. It is not instant."

"YES!!"

"What makes America unique," she continued, slowly, "is the Constitution. It's for everyone, and when we do not allow it to function as intended, we interrupt the mechanisms of Justice."

"Even for people implicated in crimes?" asked the man in the white coat.

"Especially for them!" she shouted.

She gathered her thoughts for a moment. "When we do not insist on giving the same rights to every person, we establish systems of inequality, and inequality is not just."

"When we deny the factual nature of due process, we deny people... their rights."

"Interesting," the researcher took notes.

"I... I think I know," she began after several minutes.

The room fell silent, all ears upon her.

"I never understood," she began. "Due process, the entire Constitution, not just one or two amendments.... rights, RIGHTS!" She was becoming increasingly animated.

"Continue," said the researcher.

A buzzer sounded and the simulation ended.

"Tell us what you did wrong," asked a man in a lab coat.

"I... I don't..." She was still struggling with her choices. It had all felt so real.

"Give her a minute," the researcher said to his colleagues.

She sat, still feeling nauseated, for a while.

As reality crashed in on her, she found herself unable to breathe. Struggling for air, she dropped to her knees, and in her panic, vomited. She was sick with the realization of her actions.

Weighted by immeasurable guilt, she fired again, this time striking herself in the temple.

As her own son died there, his blood staining the rug and soaking into the floor boards beneath, she stood for a moment, fully in shock, unaware of the gravity of her error.

"I know the Constitution," she said. "I know m... my rights."

Despite her efforts, she could not convince even herself.

Her words barely registered with him as he bled out, shot by his own mother over a series of unfortunate circumstances:

- She was ill-informed
- He was more aware
- She was holding the gun

"I won't tolerate it," she continued. "I won't tolerate the lies, or the deceit, any longer."

She turned and faced him. "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

"No... no no no.... Don't do th-"

The shot rang out, silencing him.

"Sorry my love, but that sounded like treason."

She couldn't hear him.

"WHAT ABOUT THE CONSTITUTION??" he shouted. "EVERYONE is INNOCENT until PROVEN GUILTY!!"

At last she understood. "The Constitution..."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "If they are guilty, they will be judged as such! That's how it works!"

A tear rolled down her cheek.