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…

“This is Marcus. He works with computers.”

Or something.

That “or something” had followed me for years.

The truth was that I out-earned Derek. I had federal benefits, a pension, and a clearance that had taken eighteen months of interviews, fingerprints, background checks, and enough paperwork to probably reveal what cereal I liked in third grade. I worked continue reading …