Three Decades of Pretending Come to an End in a Military Holding Cell
The air conditioning inside blew cold and smelled strongly of floor wax and stale coffee.
I went straight to the closest open teller window.
The young man behind the counter had on a crisp white shirt.
His plastic name tag said Marcus.
“I need to check the exact status of an account,” I said.
I took my wallet out of my purse and found my government ID.
I slid my military ID card across the smooth marble counter.
Marcus picked it up, looked at my rank, and typed my name into his keyboard.