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“They met at a bar close to the university where my daughter was waitressing. She had just moved to Los Angeles to pursue her dream of becoming an actress.”
“And what happened?”
“He brought her to his dorm room and had sex with her.”
“Was it forced?”
“No, it was consensual.” Another word I didn’t understand.
Mr. Slick continued to pace, his hands in his pockets. “For how long did Mr. Sinclair—Ned—continue to see your daughter and have sex with her?”
“A month.”
“And what happened?”
“My daughter got pregnant.”
“How old was Mr. Sinclair at the time?”
“Twenty-one.”
“And your daughter?”
“She was seventeen…a virgin.”
“Why didn’t you or your daughter report him?”
“I—I don’t understand your question.”
“She was a minor. In the state of California, having sex with a minor is considered statutory rape. A felony.”
I memorized the big words in my head. Virgin. Statutory rape. Felony. Maybe I’d ask my new teacher what they meant, I thought to myself as Mr. Shlumpy, the other lawyer, jumped up from his seat.
“Objection, Your Honor. I don’t know what this has to do with the charges brought against the defendant.”
Mr. Slick looked up and met the judge’s narrowed eyes. “Objection overruled. Please proceed, Mr. Holbrook.”
Mr. Shlumpy sat back down. He didn’t look happy.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” said Mr. Slick, redirecting his attention to my mother. She squirmed in her chair and wrung her hands.
“Mrs. Mann, why didn’t you tell your daughter to abort the baby? It was early on in the pregnancy, correct?”
“Yes…but like me, she was a devout Christian and wanted to keep it.”
“Did you approve of that decision?”
Nodding, Mama tugged at the rosary-bead necklace around her neck. The silver one she wore every day with the dangling locket. “Yes. I wanted the baby as much as she did.”
“Did your daughter confront Mr. Sinclair?”
“Yes. She knew where he lived.”
“Did she tell him she was pregnant with his baby?”
“Yes, but he wanted nothing to do with her…or it.”
“Did she ask him for financial help?”
