“Wait—you’re putting a homeless Marine on trial?” the judge questioned sharply….

Her pen stopped moving when she asked the next question.

“Where were you stationed in 2005?”

“Ramadi, ma’am.”

I said it the way I always did—flat, without embellishment. Just a place. Just a fact. But something in the room shifted anyway, subtle enough that you wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking for it.

Judge Whitmore’s eyes lifted from the file, studying me more closely now.