And slowly, haltingly, Lissa told the story all the way through, even though the man with the razor-cut blond hair stared at her menacingly, as if he could beam malevolence and fury toward her, even as she avoided his gaze. And when Roisin asked her very clearly whether the car slowed down or sped up as it turned the corner, she answered carefully so she could not be misunderstood by the jury, the judge, or anyone else.

“Yes. He sped up.”

“And can you see the driver in this courtroom?”

“Yes. He’s over there in the box.”

The man hissed at her, actually hissed, and was immediately disciplined by the police officer standing to his left. Lissa was suddenly very relieved none of his family was in the room to see her.

“You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“But the car was going quickly,” said the defense lawyer, when it came time for questions. “You can’t have gotten more than a glimpse.”

“He stared straight at me,” said Lissa. “I remember everything about it. I’m a trained A&E nurse. We see a lot of potentially dangerous situations. Sir—he grimaced at me. Just like that. It was him. He drove round the corner, he sped up, and he drove straight toward . . . Kai. He knocked his phone out of his hand, then his body went straight up in the air and landed on the concrete. Then he sped off.”

She took a deep breath.

“That’s what happened.”

The defense lawyer looked at her. A young nurse, calm, clearly telling the truth, who had absolutely no reason to lie and absolutely no reason to be here except for justice. He could sense the waves off the jury of how much they approved of her. He looked at Lissa one last time, glanced at the jury, cast his client a slightly apologetic shrug, and stood back.

“No further questions.”

Chapter 69

Unable to quite believe she was free, Lissa walked slowly down the aisle to leave the courtroom. At the end she caught sight of a face she recognized. Quickly and without ceremony, Mrs. Mitchell, Kai’s mother, nodded briskly.

Lissa felt relieved but chastened: glad that she had managed to do what she needed to do and overwhelmingly guilty because she was feeling happy now, like she was in a position to get on with her life. And Mrs. Mitchell never, ever could. She gave a half smile of apology and regret; but she had to leave, and the court had to carry on with its work, as human misery spilled out from courtroom after courtroom, in town after town.

It felt like a breath of liberty as Lissa pushed through the doors of the sour-smelling courtroom. The security guards were wired and buzzy after the fight that morning, everyone twitchy and tired and stressed.