The prosecutor looked down at his documents.
“According to the records—”
“He adopted me when I was an infant.”
The courtroom became quiet.
Sofía placed her leather case on the defense table.
“And I am requesting permission to enter an appearance as his legal counsel.”
Don Chema looked at her.
Then at the judge.
Then back at her.
“Legal counsel?”
Sofía turned toward him.
For the first time since entering the room, she smiled.
A tiny smile.
“Papá, did you really think all those years of law school were just so you could tell your friends your daughter was a lawyer?”
A few people laughed softly.
Don Chema covered his mouth.
He had always known Sofía practiced law.
What he hadn’t known was how far she had risen.
The prosecutor knew.
His expression had changed completely.
Judge Vargas studied the documents Sofía handed to the clerk.
