“You handcuffed your own commander?” someone demanded after a tense roadside stop in the rain. What seemed like a routine incident quickly unraveled, and the mistake ended up destroying the careers of two officers involved.

Miller moved closer, circling slightly, his eyes scanning me in a way that suggested he was looking for something specific but didn’t know what it was. There was hesitation in him, I noticed that immediately. A flicker of uncertainty that contrasted with Calloway’s more aggressive stance.

“ID,” Calloway said.

I reached slowly into my coat pocket, narrating the movement as I did it. “Wallet. Left side.”

He didn’t respond, but his posture shifted, more alert.

I handed over my ID.