My stepfather, a jealous police officer, handcuffed me while I was on a secure phone call with the Pentagon. He pulled out his gun, shoved me to the ground, and yelled, “Who do you think you are?” Five minutes later, five black SUVs stormed in. Because—I am a general. – True Stories
One agent lifted the body camera from the table. Another retrieved the damaged phone. A third photographed the bruises forming on my wrists. Reyes knelt and unlocked the cuffs himself.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said.
“Not your fault,” I replied, standing slowly.
Frank stared up from the floor, face purple. “You can’t do this to me.”
