“The Stanford graduate who returned to her community to make a real difference.”

I looked at the painted logo, then at Marcus, whose eyes were still fixed on the cables spilling out of our server rack.

“No,” I said.

My mother froze, her hand still hovering in the air between us.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“I’m not doing a solo photoshoot,” I said.

I pointed to the cluttered workstation where Derek was checking the thermal camera feeds on his laptop.

“If you want pictures of Solar Reach, you take pictures of the team,” I said to the photographer.

“Take a picture of Derek managing the grid logistics.”

“Sarah, don’t be difficult,” my mother said under her breath, her eyes flashing with sudden anger.

She stepped between me and Marcus, trying to block his view of the dusty desks and the half-empty coffee mugs.

“The public wants to see the leader,” she said.

“They want to see the person who received the university honors and the research grant.”

“The honors don’t keep the lights on in the canal district,” I said.