“And if her employment claim fails, the trust’s remaining eligible beneficiary is her sister, Liora Voss.”
He gestured toward Liora, who immediately lowered her head.
My mother dabbed her eyes.
Then Arvett asked me one final question.
“Can you identify a single civilian employer who paid you during the last eighteen years?”
I looked directly at him.
“No.”
A ripple moved through the room.
He smiled.
“No civilian employer whatsoever?”
“No.”
“And you’re asking this jury to believe you were employed continuously anyway?”
“Yes.”
He spread his arms.
“By whom?”
I looked at Captain Vale.
He gave the smallest possible nod.
“The United States Navy.”
My mother laughed.
It was a short, sharp sound.
The laughter hurt more than her shouting.
“Oh, please,” she said. “She’s been telling that story since she was eighteen.”
The judge struck his gavel.
“Mrs. Voss. You will remain silent unless questioned.”
My mother pressed her lips together.
But she was smiling.
She thought she had won.
Arvett turned back toward me.
“And yet, Lieutenant Commander Voss—if that is even your rank—you have not produced a single public record establishing this supposed military career.”
I felt my fingers tighten against one another.
Captain Vale stood.
“Objection. Counsel is conflating the absence of a public civilian record with the absence of military service.”
Arvett waved a dismissive hand.
“Then perhaps the defense would finally like to provide proof.”
Captain Vale looked at the judge.
“Your Honor, we would.”
He reached down.
Opened his briefcase.
And withdrew the white envelope.
My mother’s smile faltered.
Just slightly.
Captain Vale placed the envelope on the table in front of him.
Then he looked directly at Arvett.
“Counsel,” he said quietly, “you should have been much more careful about what you asked for.”
