The judge lowered the file and looked directly at me.
“Wait,” he said. “You’re JAG?”
For the first time that morning, the confidence on my parents’ faces flickered.
Their attorney frowned.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor?”
The judge adjusted his glasses and looked back at the documents.
“Major Olivia Bennett. Judge Advocate General’s Corps. Twelve years of military legal service.”
The courtroom became very quiet.
My mother blinked.
My father stared.
The attorney who had spent the last twenty minutes describing me as irresponsible suddenly looked far less comfortable.
I remained silent.
The judge continued reading.
“Decorated officer. Security clearance. Multiple commendations. Lead counsel in military fraud investigations.”
My father shifted in his seat.
“Your Honor, I fail to see—”
