He had learned it, I would realize later, from me.
“Your Honor,” Rory said, and his voice was high and clear and did not shake.
“My dad’s lawyer is telling lies.”
Dunmore’s mouth opened.
Across the aisle, the smile fell off Lyle’s face as though someone had wiped it away with a hand.
“The child is being coached, Your Honor,” Dunmore said quickly, recovering.
“I object, this is plainly—”
“Sit down, Mr.
Dunmore.” Judge Halloway brought his gavel down once, and the sound cracked through the room like ice breaking.
Then he looked down at my son, and his voice changed entirely, went gentle in a way I had not heard from anyone in a courtroom in two years.