The Signature I Taught Him to Read

“Mrs.

Pendleton appears without counsel,” he said, “which further demonstrates her inability to grasp the seriousness of these proceedings.” Sheldon smirked.

I said nothing.

I set a single black folder on the table in front of me and folded my hands on top of it, and I waited, the way I had taught a generation of investigators to wait — without fidgeting, without explaining, letting the other side fill the silence with their own confidence.

I had chosen to appear without a lawyer, and it had not been an oversight, though they took it for one.

A lawyer would have signaled that I understood the danger, that I was fighting, that there was a case to answer.