Chapter 11

The courtroom was full an hour before it opened. I floated above the gallery — reporters, nurses in scrubs, women I didn't know holding printed photographs of my face. Somewhere on the internet, my last text had become a phrase people put in their bios. Tell people I asked. Adam and Marilyn sat at the defense table looking like paper versions of themselves. He'd lost so much weight his collar stood away from his neck. Her hands never stopped shaking. They both pled guilty. Their attorney...