I Walked Into Court Beside My Mom. My Dad Smirked — Until I Addressed the Judge as Her Attorney

always did in unfamiliar places. She wore her good navy coat—the one she’d bought six months after the divorce was finalized because she said she wanted something that didn’t carry memories stitched into every seam. I could feel her glancing at me occasionally, as if checking to make sure I was still there, still solid, still willing to do what we’d continue reading …