Whitman shifted his weight.
“Those statements were intended to provide context.”
“The court will evaluate the relevant evidence,” the judge said.
He turned toward me.
“Ms. Parker, you’ll have an opportunity to present your case.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Whitman sat down.
My father looked as if he wanted to say something else.
My mother gripped her handbag with both hands.
For the first time all morning, they weren’t looking at me with contempt.
They were trying to understand something.
And I knew exactly what it was.
How could I have a professional life they knew nothing about?
The answer was painfully simple.
They had never listened long enough to find out.
When it was my turn to present my evidence, I stood and approached the lectern.
My knees felt less steady than I wanted them to.
I had worked in difficult legal environments.
I’d spoken under pressure.
