Page 49 of Shadow of Justice
“Your Honor … we’re going to be here a very long time if counsel for the defense intends to object to what amounts to semantics.”
“I agree,” she said. “The witness may answer.”
“It wasn’t until I was older. There were photographs on my grandparents’ wall that I assumed were of my mother. They bear a strong resemblance. But once when I was ten or eleven, I asked my grandpa about one of the pictures and he told me it was actually my aunt.”
“Did you know you had an aunt at that point?”
“No. I was young enough it hadn’t even really occurred to me to ask about that. There was always just my mother and my grandparents on the Luke side of the family. My dad was an only child, too. His parents died when I was little. We’re a really small family. I just didn’t know any other way.”
“All right,” I said. “So, your father is the one who told you about the circumstances of your aunt’s death?”
“No. I was playing over at a neighbor of my grandparents, and they told me ...”
“Objection. The question calls for hearsay.”
“The question isn’t being asked to prove the matter asserted. Only to establish what this witness believed about the victim.”
“I’ll allow it,” the judge said.
“The neighbor was the first one who ever used the word killed or murdered.”
“How did you react?” I asked.
“I was just shocked. It felt like she was talking about some other family. Other people. I didn’t understand why none of my family talked about it. It was this big thing that impacted all their lives.”
“Did you confront either of your parents about it?”
“I asked my father. I was afraid to talk to my mom.”
“Why is that?”
“I didn’t want to upset her.”
“What happened when you asked your father about your Aunt Ellie?”
“He was abrupt. He just said it happened a long time ago. That Aunt Ellie wasn’t careful and that I should never walk home alone in the dark.”
“He said your Aunt Ellie wasn’t careful?”
“Something like that. He dismissed me pretty quickly. He didn’t say I should never ask about it, but I felt strongly that it was a topic that shouldn’t be brought up. That it would be too painful for either my grandparents or my mother. So at the time, I let it go.”
“Did you ever ask your mother about her sister?”
“Not in those years, no. Like I said, I was pretty young. Ten or eleven. Still young enough, I kind of took whatever my parents said as the way things should be. It wasn’t until I was older, maybe fifteen or sixteen, I started asking more questions.”
“Who did you ask?”
“I tried to ask my mom. It was after I turned sixteen. I got my driver’s license and she lectured me about being careful. She said something about not walking to my car alone after work. I worked at an ice cream parlor then. So I asked her if she was scared because of what happened to her sister. She just burst into tears. My dad stepped in and changed the subject. He gave me this angry look. I felt like I’d overstepped. And my mom was so upset. Crying. She had to go lie down. I felt terrible. So I just didn’t bring it up with her again.”
“Did you ever talk to your grandparents about Ellie?”
“No. Nothing substantive. I think I might have mentioned once or twice to Grandma that I knew the picture in the hall was of my Aunt Ellie. After seeing how upset Mom was, I was more careful. I wanted to give them the opportunity to talk about Ellie if they wanted to. But they never did.”
“I see,” I said. “So, how did you find out the details of what happened to your aunt?”
“Well, I was always curious. My father kept telling me to leave it alone. That it happened long before I was born. That my mom and her parents had moved on and we shouldn’t upset them. Like I said, for a while, I accepted that. But as I got older, I just had so many questions. So I started looking online.”
“What did you find?”
