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My brother actually laughed at dinner and said, ‘I sold that useless laptop of yours for five hundred bucks. Finally got rid of your junk.’ My cousins cheered him on. Then he added, almost proudly, ‘Already handed it off to the buyer.’ I got up, stepped outside, and called my supervisor. By the time I made the report, the FBI cyber team was already tracking the device…

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the successful one because his victories were visible. Truck in the driveway. Bigger house. Louder story. Meanwhile the work I did only mattered when nothing went wrong.

And when everything had gone wrong, I still did the right thing.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

That night I went back to my apartment—the same apartment, though I had already decided not to continue reading …

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