The bailiff passed it up to the bench.

Judge Ramirez opened the ledger, the sound of the paper rustling in the quiet.

Her eyes moved quickly across the neat rows of numbers and dates.

She looked at the dates, then looked up at Linda.

“Mrs. Collins,” the judge said, her voice dropping to a dangerous level.

“Do you have an explanation for these withdrawals?”

Linda stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“He is lying!” she screamed, pointing a shaking finger at my father.

“He is doing this to ruin me!”

“Mark owes us everything!”

“We raised him, and he flies around the world while we drown in bills!”

“It is his duty to help his family!”

Hannah reached up and grabbed her mother’s sleeve, trying to pull her down.

“Mom, stop,” Hannah whispered, her voice cracking.

“Please, just stop.”

Linda shook her off violently, her eyes wide.

“No!” she yelled.

“I won’t let him do this to us!”

“He is our son!”

Judge Ramirez banged her gavel three times, the loud thuds cutting through Linda’s screams.

“Sit down, Mrs. Collins,” the judge commanded.