At the station, I sat across from the officers, trying not to show my nerves. My gaze met their cold eyes, and I said quietly: “You can check everything yourselves.”

Their eyebrows raised. I continued: “There’s a hidden camera in the car behind the mirror. Everything that happened is recorded. You’ll see every moment.”

The officers exchanged glances, the tension in the room palpable. I took out my phone with the recordings and placed it on the table.

Their hands shook as they began watching the footage. I watched silently as the truth appeared on the screen and my brother’s real guilt gradually unfolded.

The room filled with the officers’ quiet whispers, and I felt a strange relief: finally, the whole family would see that the accusation was not directed at me, and the game had turned.