At his birthday party, my brother twisted my arms behind my back and snapped cold steel cuffs onto my wrists. “You’re under arrest for theft!” he shouted, accusing me of stealing his watch. I said nothing. My mother kicked my purse across the floor, sneering, “Then prove it.” Moments later, he laughed and called it a joke, unlocking the cuffs. I didn’t argue—I made one call. “Strip his badge.” The room went silent… he had no idea who I really was.
1. The Badge and the Bully The backyard of my mother’s suburban home smelled distinctly of stale, cheap beer, burning charcoal, and the suffocating odor of unearned arrogance. It was…
