"And the boys?"
She paused for a moment and glanced at Winston. She obviously wasn't prepared for this line of questioning. "Why ... they'd attend my husband's alma mater, of course."
"And how old are children when they go to these schools?"
She seemed to relax slightly. "I believe The Priscilla Merrifield School admits girls as young as seven. The boys could start immediately."
"So what you're telling me is that you won't really be caring for these children at all, will you? You'll be shipping the boys off as soon as possible, and you're going to hire someone to look after Becky until she's seven and you can send her away, too." Florence's face reddened. "No ... that's not so ...
"That's all." Jonas turned away from her and sat down beside Sam.
Florence stepped down from the stand and slowly made her way back to her seat. Emma couldn't help but notice the fury on Winston's face as his gaze followed her. Her testimony had hurt the Howards' case.
Maybe they had a chance after all.
***
After lunch, Jonas called on a few of Emma and Sam's friends. Their testimony was short, and finally, he called Emma to the stand. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor as she crossed the courtroom, and her knees were quivering so violently she was terrified she'd crumple into a heap. Breathing deeply, she sat down.
Over lunch, Jonas had commented how pleased he was with the way the morning had gone. All Emma had to do was answer the questions briefly, and not allow her emotions to get the best of her. As if that was possible. Her emotions were bubbling so close to the surface it was almost impossible for them not to spill over. He'd advised her to think about the questions carefully before she answered.
Sam had held her hand all the way back from the hotel restaurant where they'd eaten lunch. Emma had merely pushed her food around on the plate, barely touching it. Now, her stomach churning, she was glad she hadn't eaten much.
"Mrs. Jenkins?" Jonas's soft voice drew her attention. He gave her a smile, his eyes telling her he had confidence in her. "How long have you and Mr. Jenkins been married?"
Fear trapped her voice, but she cleared her throat and spoke as clearly as she could. "Two months."
"Happy?"
That was an easy question. "Yes."
"And the children - are they happy, too?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any other children?"
"No."
Emma felt herself relax. Jonas had said he'd start with easy questions to make her more comfortable. She could do this.
"Do you feel you're a good mother to the children?"
As he'd instructed, she paused and thought about her response. Finally, she answered. "I'm new to being a mother, and I suppose I've made some mistakes, but I love the children and I think we're learning together."
"So you believe you've become a real family, and that you should stay together?"
Emma's eyes brightened. "I do."
"Let's talk about you and Sam. You two get along?"
Emma smiled. "Yes, we do," she said confidently.
"So even though you didn't know each other well when you married him, you've developed a friendship?"
Friendship? Yes, she supposed it could be called that. But it was more, so much more.
"Yes," she answered.