“Your Honor?”
The small voice echoed through the courtroom.
Howard stood up.
Every head turned.
Aidan frowned. “Howard, sit down.”
But my son didn’t move.
“Your Honor,” he said carefully, “may I defend my mom?”
A murmur spread across the room.
The judge studied him kindly. “This is very serious, young man.”
Howard nodded solemnly.
“I know.”
Then he reached into his backpack and handed several folded papers to the bailiff.
“My parents think I’m too young to understand what’s been happening,” he said softly. “But I know my dad’s secret.”
For illustrative purposes only
Aidan immediately stood up.
“Your Honor, this is inappropriate—”
Howard kept speaking.
“And I’m ready to tell the truth.”
The bailiff unfolded the papers slowly.
I saw the judge’s expression change instantly.
Aidan’s lawyer lunged forward. “We object!”
The judge’s eyes narrowed.
“Sit down, counselor.”
Howard took a shaky breath.
“My dad forgot he logged into his email on my tablet,” he explained. “I saw messages.”
