Even Foss stopped moving.
I didn’t look at Dad.
Instead, I reached into my briefcase one final time.
I lifted a red-sealed manila folder.
Then I carried it to the bench and placed it on the oak surface.
“Your honor, the plaintiff has just accused me of forging federal documents. I request the court verify my military identification code on page two.”
I stepped back.
My breathing remained steady.
My face revealed nothing.
Judge Okafor opened the folder.
Then she froze.
Her fingers stopped halfway down the page.
Her eyes widened as they passed over Department of Defense seals, authorization codes, and classification markings no ordinary civilian could obtain.
Her pen slipped from her fingers and struck the desk.
She looked up sharply.
Her expression had changed completely.
“Do you know what your daughter is?”
Dad blinked.
For the first time during the entire proceeding, his sneer vanished.
Judge Okafor waited.
