But I needed the reminder.
Because this was the moment I had been imagining for six weeks.
The moment the official record would finally speak.
And now that it was here, I was terrified.
Not because the document was false.
Because I had spent so long protecting the private parts of my life that presenting even a limited account of them felt like opening a door I could never close.
The judge’s clerk escorted both attorneys into chambers.
I remained in the courtroom with the bailiff nearby.
My mother sat three benches behind me.
Liora sat beside her.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then I heard my sister whisper, “Mom, what does that mean?”
My mother answered through clenched teeth.
“It means she’s trying to scare us.”
I stared at the empty jury box.
I wanted to turn around.
I wanted to ask my sister whether she remembered the day Dad and I had come home from the recruiting station.
I wanted to ask whether she remembered the postcards, the occasional pictures in uniform, and the carefully chosen gifts that arrived from places I could not always identify.
But I stayed still.
I knew this was not the moment for another private argument.
The courtroom door opened.
Arvett emerged first.
His face was pale.
Captain Vale followed.
He walked toward me, leaned down, and spoke quietly.
“The judge has reviewed the unclassified certification. Counsel has been allowed to inspect it. The court is going to admit it.”
I closed my eyes.
For half a second, I saw Dad sitting beneath the yellow living room lamp.
I know you work.
My chest tightened.
Captain Vale added, “The judge is also going to give the jury a careful instruction about what the document establishes and what remains protected.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready?”
I looked at the empty witness stand.
“Yes.”
The bailiff called the court back into session.
Everyone stood as Judge Mercer returned.
