Chapter 22 - Marjorie Testifies
My mother took stand.
She looked elegant.
Controlled.
For first hour, she almost sounded reasonable.
Widowed son overwhelmed.
Granddaughter struggling.
Family abroad willing.
Good school.
Temporary term.
Then motive.
“I wanted to help.”
Possible.
Then forged documents.
She called them:
“Administrative corrections.”
The prosecutor asked:
“Corrections to whose authority?”
Silence.
Then:
“You deleted a prohibition.”
“Yes.”
“Because it prevented what you wanted.”
“I believed the prohibition was overly broad.”
“Who signed it?”
“Fletcher.”
“Who had legal custody?”
“Fletcher.”
“Who decides whether it was overly broad?”
She stared.
Then:
“Not me.”
There.
Then parent email.
“You answered as Fletcher.”
“I answered logistics.”
“You wrote ‘Proceed.’”
“Yes.”
“Was Fletcher proceeding?”
“No.”
Then travel.
“If Fletcher objected after landing, what would happen?”
“I hoped he’d give it time.”
“What if he demanded immediate return?”
Marjorie hesitated.
“I would have tried to convince him.”
“Would you return her?”
“I would have had to.”
That mattered.
Attempted custodial interference required intent to deprive. Temporary perhaps.
Then prosecutor:
“Why write ‘he won’t drag her back once school starts’?”
“Because I knew him.”
“Not because you had legal authority.”
“No.”
Then chores.
“Did Ione cry?”
“Yes.”
“Did she ask to sleep upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Why deny?”
“Consequence.”
“Consequence for?”
“Refusal.”
“Refusal to clean a floor you had re-dirtied.”
“Yes.”
The jury watched.
Then:
“Did you love Ione?”
“Yes.”
I believed her.
That was the painful part.
May you like
She loved my daughter.
And believed love entitled her to redesign her life.
