Charles’s attorney kept squaring a stack of papers that were already square.

“Your Honor, this is a question of stability,” the attorney said.

“The mother has been deployed overseas for most of this child’s life.

She is a soldier first.”

Brenda sat in the second row with her coat still on.

The judge pointed his pen at me, and I stood.

My dress uniform was pressed.

My boots made the wrong sound on a courthouse floor, and I let them.