Page 85 of Fake it With Me

“February twenty-fourth,” Darek confirmed, still looking confused.

“Those whales would still be in the Caribbean at that time!” I practically shouted. “Humpback whales migrate south to breeding grounds in the Caribbean and don’t start their migration back north until late March at the earliest. They follow very predictable patterns based on water temperature and food availability. There is no way—absolutely no way—that humpback whales would be in Maine waters in late February.”

The confusion on their faces slowly transformed into understanding.

“Someone messed with this picture,” I continued. “They changed the background to make the water look rougher, more dangerous, and they didn’t notice they included whales that shouldn’t be there at that time of year.”

Darek grabbed my face and kissed me hard, right there in the courtroom. “My little nerd, you might have just saved me.”

“Does this actually work?” Aaron asked, his legal mind already spinning. “Can we use this?”

“Yes!” Brittany was already on her phone tapping away. “Whale migration patterns are well-documented, scientifically established. If Liza testifies as an expert witness, we might be able to establish it’s fake.”

“I’m not technically an expert yet,” I interrupted. “I’m still working on my doctorate.”

“You’re a PhD candidate at a major university studying this exact topic. That’s good enough for expert testimony.” Aaron was grinning now. “This is good. This is really good.”

“What do we do?” Darek asked.

“The judge will be back in five minutes,” Aaron said. “I’ll ask to put Liza on the stand. Once I do, Whitmore will have the right to cross-examine her. He’ll try to discredit her expertise, poke holes in her testimony. Are you comfortable with that?”

Darek looked at me. “Are you sure about this? About the whales?”

“I’m completely sure. This is literally what I’ve been studying for the last eight years of my life. Humpback whales are not in Maine in late February. Period.”

“Then do it,” he said to Aaron. “Put her on the stand.”

I was terrified I was going to screw up. What if their attorney asked me questions I couldn’t answer? Would that ruin my credibility? Would I screw everything up? Now I was the one who felt like throwing up.

The bailiff told everyone to sit down and a minute later we were ordered to stand.

Judge Morrison returned, looking slightly more patient after her recess. I hoped she had really good snacks and was in a better mood. “Mr. Brennan, are we ready to proceed?”

“Yes, your honor. The defense would like to call a witness to address the authenticity of the photograph submitted by the petitioner.”

“Objection, your honor.” Whitmore shot to his feet so fast his chair squeaked against the floor. “We had no knowledge of this witness. She’s not on the witness list provided during discovery.”

Aaron didn’t miss a beat. “Your honor, this is a new witness. We only just discovered the relevance of Dr. Jefferies’s testimony during the recess.”

“Dr. Jefferies?” Judge Morrison raised an eyebrow, looking at me. “I thought you were a whale scientist.”

My face burned. “I’m a PhD candidate, your honor. Not quite a doctor yet.”

“Ah yes, the whale scientist.” The judge’s tone was bone dry. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or just deeply unimpressed. “The one who interrupted my courtroom with an outburst about fake evidence.”

“I apologize again for that, your honor. I was⁠—”

“Save it.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Mr. Whitmore, what’s your concern here?”

“Your honor, this is highly irregular. We haven’t had any opportunity to prepare for this witness or to conduct our own investigation into her credentials or her testimony. This is ambush tactics.”

“Ambush tactics?” Aaron scoffed. “Your honor, the petitioner submitted photographic evidence that we believe has been doctored. Ms. Jefferies has specialized knowledge that directly speaks to the authenticity of that photograph. We were never provided the original footage that photo was pulled from. We have a right to argue its authenticity.”

Judge Morrison looked back and forth between the two lawyers. Then she looked at me, studying me with those sharp eyes that seemed to see right through to my soul.

The judge tapped her fingers on the bench, considering. The silence stretched out so long I thought I might pass out from holding my breath.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she finally said. “I’m going to allow this testimony, Mr. Whitmore. But I’m also going to give you additional time to cross-examine. And I warn you, Mr. Brennan, if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I won’t look kindly on it.”