She had turned her disappointment into an accusation because the accusation gave her something she could punish.
Captain Vale waited until she had stopped speaking.
“Mrs. Voss, did Evelyn ever tell you she was subject to military orders?”
“Yes.”
“Did she explain that she could not simply leave her duty station whenever she wished?”
“Yes.”
“Did she offer assistance when she was able?”
My mother stared at him.
“Sometimes.”
“Did your husband ever tell you that he believed Evelyn had abandoned him?”
She looked down.
I held my breath.
For weeks, she had spoken as though she were carrying out Dad’s wishes.
Now she was being asked whether Dad had actually expressed those wishes.
“He wanted to see her more,” she said.
“Did he say he believed she had abandoned him?”
“No.”
The word was barely audible.
Captain Vale leaned closer.
“Did he ever tell you that Evelyn was lying about serving in the Navy?”
My mother hesitated.
“No.”
“Did he ever tell you that her military career was imaginary?”
“No.”
“Did he ever say she was unemployed?”
“No.”
My heart began pounding.
Captain Vale looked down at the trust.
“And yet, you told the jury she had never served a single day.”
My mother lifted her chin.
“I didn’t know what she was doing.”
“That isn’t what you said.”
“She never told me!”
“She told you she was serving in the Navy.”
“She wouldn’t tell me where!”
“Because she was not authorized to disclose certain assignment information.”
My mother leaned forward.
“I am her mother!”
The words rang through the courtroom.
Captain Vale stood still.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He paused.
“But that doesn’t grant you access to classified information.”
Someone in the gallery inhaled sharply.
My mother stared at him.
I had heard her say those four words thousands of times.
I am your mother.
She used them when she wanted me to cancel plans.
When she wanted answers.
When she wanted me to overlook something hurtful.
When she wanted me to put Liora’s needs ahead of my own.
She spoke them as if motherhood were a lifelong authorization to cross every boundary.
Captain Vale did not raise his voice.
“Mrs. Voss, you were aware that your older daughter enlisted at eighteen, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You knew she had left to begin military training?”
“Yes.”
“You received occasional communications from her during the following years?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew her father remained in contact with her?”
“Yes.”
“So your assertion that she had never served a day was not based on confirmation from the Navy.”
“No.”
“It was based on the fact that you could not personally verify everything she told you.”
My mother twisted the tissue in her hands.
“I didn’t believe her.”
Captain Vale nodded.
“Thank you.”
He began walking back toward his table.
Then he stopped.
“One final question.”
My mother looked exhausted.
“What?”
“When you filed this petition, were you aware that your younger daughter had experienced substantial gaps in her employment?”
She looked toward Liora.
“I knew she’d struggled.”
“Did you know she had not established ten years of continuous employment?”
“I thought her business counted.”
“Were you aware that she had stopped operating it for a period?”
My mother looked down.
“Yes.”
Captain Vale waited.
“Then you knew there were questions about her eligibility too.”
My mother said nothing.
