locked,” he said. “And I got really scared. Because he said mean things about Mom. Things that weren’t true. And he said things about me too.”
He looked at the judge.
“Grandma said the secret pocket is for important things,” he said. “So I took the little card out of my tablet and I put it in there. Behind the moon. So nobody could take it.”
He held it out toward the judge.
“I think this is important,” he said.
Judge Halloway looked at the memory card for a long
moment.
Then she looked at Grant.
Grant was sitting perfectly still. His face had gone the color of old paper. His fancy watch caught the light as his hand trembled on the table.
“Mr. Bellamy,” the judge said quietly. “Is there anything you’d like to say before I look at this?”
Grant opened his mouth. Then he closed it.
Mr. Carroway leaned over and whispered something urgently in his ear. Grant shook his head. Then he looked at his son.
“Nolan,” he said. His voice cracked. “Buddy, you shouldn’t—that was
private. You shouldn’t record people without asking.”
Nolan looked back at his father.
“You didn’t ask me,” he said, “before you used my picture.”
EzoicNobody in that courtroom moved.
Judge Halloway nodded to the bailiff. He walked over slowly and held out his hand. Nolan carefully placed the tiny card in his palm, like he was handing over a baby bird.
“Thank you, Nolan,” the judge said. “That was very brave. You can sit down now, next to your mom.”
Nolan climbed back into his chair. He was shaking.
