And slowly, she reached for the front of her shirt, and began lifting the fabric toward the little embroidered moon.
Chapter 4: Behind the Moon
“Your Honor,” Lark said, in a small but steady voice, “can I show you something?”
The judge, a kind-eyed woman named Ames, leaned forward. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
Lark turned the hem of the shirt up to reveal the back of the embroidered moon — and there, stitched carefully behind it, was a tiny cloth pocket.
“My grandma Verna taught me to sew it,” Lark said. “It’s my secret pocket. For important things.”
She reached inside and pulled out a small voice recorder, the old kind, the one Verna used to leave herself notes.
The courtroom went very still.
“When I stay at my dad’s on weekends,” Lark said, “he thinks I’m asleep, but sometimes I’m not. A few months ago I heard him on the phone, laughing with his golf friend. He said he got my mom fired from her cleaning job so she’d look poor in court. He said he paid our landlord to lie about our apartment.” Her chin trembled, but she kept going. “I didn’t think anyone would believe a kid. So I recorded him. And I hid it in my favorite shirt, because it’s the one place nobody checks.”
