His voice softened into that practiced tone.
“We were given reason to believe our daughter had been exaggerating her professional accomplishments.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
Brenda answered.
“By me.”
Every face turned toward her.
She straightened.
“I’ve known my sister my entire life.”
Judge Morland remained expressionless.
“I assume so.”
“And she has always had a tendency to embellish.”
I nearly laughed.
Instead, I watched.
Brenda continued.
“She told people she was an attorney, but whenever we asked basic questions, she became evasive.”
“When did you ask?”
Brenda blinked.
“What?”
“When did you ask your sister about her work?”
Silence.
Judge Morland leaned back.
“You submitted a sworn complaint alleging that Ms. Hamilton falsely represented herself as a licensed attorney. Surely you conducted some inquiry first.”
My mother stiffened.
“We tried.”
“How?”
“She wouldn’t provide us with documentation.”
Judge Morland looked at me.
“Did they ask for your bar card?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Your bar number?”
“No.”
“Your law-firm information?”
“No.”
“Did they search the Massachusetts attorney registry?”
Brenda opened her mouth.
No one answered.
Judge Morland slowly removed her glasses.
“The public attorney registry?”
My father shifted uncomfortably.
“We aren’t familiar with legal databases.”
“You don’t need to be. It appears in an ordinary internet search.”
Brenda flushed.
My mother turned to me.
