The Secret I Kept From My Husband’s Family: Why I Never Told Them I Was a Judge

firmly. Then, more carefully, “Is that inappropriate for me to say?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s honest. And accuracy matters more than politeness.”

After he left, I sat at my desk for a few more minutes, looking at the photograph of my children.

I felt no triumph about Margaret’s imprisonment. No satisfaction in her suffering. Just a quiet sense of closure.continue reading …