Judge Walsh cleared her throat. “Mrs. Ford, do you have any further evidence before I rule on this case.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. I had nothing left. The documents favored them. The law leaned toward them. My hope thinned like paper in rain.
Then Oliver stood up.
The courtroom shifted its attention to him. His small shoulders straightened. He adjusted his beige blazer and spoke clearly.
“I am my mom’s lawyer.”
Laughter rippled from Eric. Bryan smirked beside him. Their attorney shook his head.
Judge Walsh raised her hand. “Silence. Young man, what is your name.”
“Oliver Ford,” he said.
“And what makes you believe you are your mother’s lawyer.”
Oliver slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out folded papers.
“My grandma gave me this. She said to show it if anyone tried to take our home.”
My breath caught. I had never seen those papers.
The opposing attorney rose quickly. “Your Honor this is inappropriate. A child cannot submit evidence. The authenticity is unknown.”
Judge Walsh studied Oliver’s determined face. “Let the child speak.”
Oliver unfolded the pages with careful fingers.
“This is a letter. Grandma wrote it before she went to heaven.”