My father leaned back and winked at my mother.
They thought it was over.
I stood slowly and picked up my thin folder.
“I have no witnesses, Your Honor. I have one document.”
“One document?” Sterling laughed. “A letter of apology?”
“No,” I said. “My personnel file.”
I handed the folder to the bailiff, who brought it to the judge.
The room went silent.
Judge Halloway opened the folder. She adjusted her glasses. She read the first page, then the second.
Her expression changed.
“Ms. Vance,” she said slowly, “this is a certified service record from the Department of Defense?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
