Chapter 21 - Rafferty
My husband’s testimony was harder.
Defense wanted ambiguity.
Prosecution wanted boundaries.
Rafferty gave both.
“Did you tell your father Callum needed to become less fearful?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask him to help?”
“Yes.”
“Did you discuss your own childhood?”
“Briefly.”
“Did you say ‘nothing crazy’?”
“Yes.”
“Did you expressly forbid a kennel?”
“No, because it never occurred to me.”
Then:
“Did you authorize confinement?”
“No.”
“Did you authorize locking him away from phone?”
“No.”
“Did you know about notebook?”
“No.”
“Keys?”
“No.”
Then defense.
“You participated in similar exercises as child.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe every one harmed you?”
“No.”
That mattered.
Some maybe normal.
Then:
“Did your father teach you courage?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
He continued:
“He also taught me that saying I was scared didn't necessarily make him stop.”
There.
Then:
“Could that history have caused you to interpret his modern behavior more negatively?”
“Yes.”
“Could your wife’s anger influence you?”
“Yes.”
Good.
Then the hardest.
“Why did you remain silent when Callum said your father told him you approved?”
Rafferty stared at jury.
“Because for a few seconds I wondered whether my vague permission to ‘help’ had been enough for my father to believe I approved.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“But you weren't sure.”
“Not for three seconds.”
Then:
“What did your son see?”
Rafferty’s voice broke.
“A father who didn't answer.”
Silence.
“I am sorry for that.”
The judge reminded him not to address Callum absent.
Fine.
But point stood.
May you like
Rafferty did not turn his freeze into false innocence.
That credibility mattered.
