My father slowly raised his hand.
“Your Honor?”
The judge looked up.
In eight months of proceedings, Dad had never addressed the court.
“Yes?”
“If I may,” he said, “there’s something I believe you should know.”
Brian’s attorney immediately objected.
Dad wasn’t a listed witness.
He wasn’t a party to the case.
The information hadn’t been disclosed in advance.
The judge listened to the objections.
Then she allowed my father to explain the circumstances, while making clear that the lawyers would address what evidence could properly be considered.
Dad stood.
He buttoned the middle button of his jacket.
Then he faced the judge.
“Your Honor, there’s something my daughter doesn’t know.”
I stared at him.
“Dad?”
He didn’t look at me.
“Three days before Brian was required to move out of the house, he called me.”
My mouth went dry.
“I didn’t answer,” Dad continued. “So he left a voicemail.”
