Page 117 of The Postie


Font Size:

“Ms. Trubio,” her attorney began, “can you state your relationship to the minor child?”

“Deborah is my late sister’s daughter. When my sister and her husband died, I was overseas for work. By the time I returned to the States and learned of their deaths, the child had already been placed with him.” She gestured toward me with barely concealed disdain.

“And why are you here today?”

“Because I’ve recently learned that Mr. Jamison is living an alternative lifestyle that I believe is detrimental to my niece’s well-being. A child should be raised in a traditional family environment, not exposed to . . . inappropriate influences.”

My stomach dropped to my shoes.

Alternative lifestyle.

Inappropriate influences.

Did she know about Jeremiah?

“And what specific concerns do you have?” Mr. Kaufman continued.

“I have it on good authority that Mr. Jamison is engaging in a romantic relationship with another man, and that this man has been spending significant time in the home where my niece resides. They only met weeks ago, and already Deborah calls this man ‘Daddy.’ I don’t believe children should be exposed to such situations.”

Sarah was already rising to object, but Judge Williams waved her down.

“I’ll allow you to cross-examine the witness,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

Sarah approached the witness stand with the measured steps of a predator circling prey. “Ms. Trubio, when was the last time you saw Deborah?”

Linda Trubio shifted slightly. “She was very young—”

“How young specifically?”

“Perhaps . . . six months old.”

“Six months. And when was the last time you contacted Mr. Jamison to inquire about Deborah’s welfare?”

Silence.

“Ms. Trubio, when was the last time you contacted anyone to inquire about your niece?”

“I was dealing with my own grief—”

“Your Honor?”

Judge Williams leaned forward. “Answer the question, Ms. Trubio.”

Sarah nodded to the judge and rephrased her question. “I’ll remind you of my question. Have you ever, in the four years since your sister’s death, reached out to check on Deborah’s well-being?”

“No.”

“Have you ever sent a birthday card? A Christmas gift? A letter?”

“No.”

“Have you ever contributed financially to her care?”

“No, but—”

“Have you ever objected to Mr. Jamison’s guardianship until today?”

“No.”