Patricia rolled her eyes.
“This drama is exactly why my son should never have married you.”
To Patricia, I was unemployed.
When I met her son Daniel, I never discussed my career with his family.
Daniel knew who I was, but we agreed to keep my career private.
My work brought publicity, threats, and people who thought knowing a judge could earn favors.
Patricia mistook my silence for poverty.
For three years, she called me a freeloader.
She mocked my “cheap” clothes, never realizing I dressed conservatively because cameras sometimes waited outside my courthouse.
She laughed at my refusal to discuss money.
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