Lex had put on the best clothes he had left from his old life for the trial, and Martha drove him to the courthouse. On the drive over, his heart pounded so hard he felt like electricity was running through his arms and legs. He didn't know how he would walk into the building, but when Martha took his hand, he found he was able to breathe again.

But one look at his father's face called everything into question again. His mind flooded with fear and reverence, respect and adoration, love and desperation.

He couldn't lose his dad. No matter what the Kents had said.

"My dad didn't hurt me. I lied to him," he told the courtroom. "He was trying to get me to tell the truth, and I backed away and tripped and fell. That's how I got hurt. It was an accident. I screamed, and the neighbors heard, and . . ."

Lex's voice trailed off, and his mind wandered to the conversation he'd had with the Kents the day before. Jonathan's words floated to the forefront of his consciousness:

He wasn't perfect, but he never, ever made me wonder whether he loved me.

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Lex didn't mean to say it, but the question slipped out: "Dad, do you love me?"

His father's eyes narrowed, and Lex's heart sank.

It hit Lex at once. What he hadn't understood before. His father wasn't just abusive because he didn't love Lex. He was abusive because he constantly made Lex wonder.

Lex had condemned his father without even meaning to. He could see it in the judge's eyes.

That was the only reason why his father wasn't answering. At least, Lex hoped that was why. The alternative was . . .

" . . . Dad? . . . Please?"

Silence.

No. It couldn't be true. It couldn't.

He had never thought of love as his right. Maybe it was; maybe it wasn't; but either way, it wasn't simply something he wanted—it was something he needed, and he had never known how desperate the need was until now.

He looked over at Martha. The look on her face was broken. Hurting for him. She loved him. She loved him differently than his mother ever had—his mother hadn't ever tried to stop his father.

Lex had to take the risk. It could cost him everything, but he didn't have anything to lose. His father didn't love him.

He looked right at the judge. "The Kents have never made me ask that question."

The venom in his father's eyes pierced him to the core, but he didn't let himself cry, not yet. He still had a testimony to give. Besides, his father had no sympathy for tears.

Later, Martha would hold him and comfort him and wipe the tears away.

And he would never, ever have to wonder if she loved him.