"Don't run away from me," she said. "You started this."
"I'm going inside my house."
"Then go around me."
He changed direction, and Vivien stepped forward until her shoulder brushed his upper arm. She immediately jumped backward and raised her voice so that neighbors farther down the sidewalk would hear. "He pushed me! Did you all see that? The chief just assaulted me!"
Malik lifted both hands, palms open. "I did not push you. You stepped into me."
One of the movers shook his head in disbelief. Another had begun filming from beside the truck after seeing Vivien repeatedly block Malik's path. Across the street, an older couple watched from their porch, the husband holding a phone near his chest. Malik felt a familiar exhaustion rise in him: she was no longer trying to convince anyone of a particular fact, only trying to produce enough confusion that the truth would have to fight for attention.
A compact official vehicle arrived after several minutes. The parking enforcement officer, a white woman in her sixties with short silver hair and a tablet tucked beneath one arm, climbed out and walked toward the obstruction. She listened briefly to Malik's account, inspected the position of the SUV, and measured the available space without inviting anyone to argue over personal motives. Then she turned toward Vivien.
"Ma'am, your vehicle is blocking the driveway entrance. It needs to be moved immediately."
"It's on my property," Vivien replied.
"Part of it extends into the access area, and it prevents a vehicle from entering the neighboring driveway. The truck has a legitimate delivery. Please move your SUV."
"He called you because he's the police chief," Vivien declared. "This is retaliation. He wants everyone to think he controls the street."
The parking officer looked at Malik, who had stepped back toward his porch. "I have the address and the obstruction. His job doesn't affect whether your vehicle is blocking access."
"You're taking his side."
"I'm telling you what the vehicle is doing," the officer answered. "You have five minutes to move it voluntarily. After that, I'll request a tow under the applicable parking procedure."
Vivien laughed in disbelief and folded her arms. The moving crew waited, watching the minutes pass while the officer entered information into her tablet. The older woman did not argue with Vivien's accusations, did not raise her voice, and did not threaten any action beyond the procedure she had already described. Her composure made Vivien's defiance look more unreasonable with every passing second.
At the end of the warning period, the parking officer called for the tow truck. When the heavy vehicle arrived, Vivien finally began to look uncertain, though she still insisted the entire matter was illegal. The operator checked the authorization, photographed the SUV's position, and started preparing the lifting equipment. Vivien rushed toward him, shouting that nobody was allowed to touch her car, and grabbed the open door of his truck before the parking officer told her to move back.
"Lady, I don't decide whose car gets towed," the operator said. "I follow the written authorization. You can move it yourself only if the officer agrees and the process hasn't passed that point."