My brother, a police officer, arrested me during Sunday dinner, right in front of our family. “You’re under arrest for impersonating a military officer and theft of government property,” my own brother snarled as he slammed my face onto the cold marble floor of our grandmother’s dining room, his knee digging into my back. As he snapped the handcuffs onto my wrists, the door suddenly burst open. A four-star general and his men marched in. “Lieutenant!” he roared. “Step away from the general right now.”

My cop brother ar;rest;ed me at Sunday dinner, right in front of our family. “You’re under arr;est for imper;son;ating a military officer and the;ft of government property,” my own brother snarled as he sla;m;med my face against the cold marble floor of our grandmother’s dining room, his knee dig;gi;ng into me. As he c;uf;fed me, the door burst open. A four-star general and his men marched in. “Lieutenant,” he roared, “step away from the general right now.”

“I’ve spent four months looking into you,” Mark said, slam;ming a manila folder onto the dinner table like a magician revealing his final trick. “Surveillance. Photos. You wear medals you didn’t earn. You built a fake life just to deceive this family.”

He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with righteous indignation. “Did you think we were stupid? Impers;onati;ng a military officer. Fraud.” He pulled out his police badge and slapped it onto the table. “As a sworn officer, I’m placing you under arrest.”

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