He passed close enough to my table to look directly at me.
“Should’ve listened when we gave you a chance,” he muttered.
I didn’t respond.
I watched him return to his seat beside my mother.
Then I turned a page in my folder.
Judge Morrison had begun reviewing the documents attached to my response.
He had looked through them earlier, but now something appeared to catch his attention.
He stopped.
Turned back one page.
Read again.
His eyes moved from the document to me.
Then back to the document.
Mr. Whitman was rearranging his papers when the judge spoke.
“Hold on.”
The courtroom fell quiet.
Judge Morrison adjusted his glasses.
“Ms. Parker?”
I stood.
“Yes, Your Honor?”
He looked at the title printed beside my name.
Then he asked a question that made my mother’s head snap up.
“You’re JAG?”
I felt my father’s smile disappear.
