“You can’t prove that was me,” said Heather. “Because it wasn’t.”

“I can’t prove it, until you admit it here before your comrades. But I can tell it was you. You certainly had the motive. They killed your lover. What better motive than that?”

Bettina and Ellen were looking at Joyce now.

“They will understand, Heather. And they will let me take you home.”

“This is my home,” said Heather.

“This is not your home,” said Ellen. “You are our guest. And I can see that you have betrayed our trust.”

“I am not going to argue with the case Percy made,” said Donny. “To the contrary, I agree. Let me take Heather back to Dallas with me, to her family. And I will do everything in my power to work out a deal.”

The judges who weren’t judges looked at one another. A look of tentative agreement.

The crowd had a different idea.

“No deals!” yelled one voice. And you could tell, as soon as the words got out there bouncing around the room, that they had captured the spirit that animated the room.

The echo was not just from the cavernous chamber, but from the people repeating the declaration of uncompromising judgment.

“Banish her!”

You could see how Heather felt about that.

“Banish him!” said Heather, pointing at Donny.

“We already did,” said Ellen. “And we’re about to kick him out again.”

Donny was relieved. “We can leave right now,” he said.

“No, Donny,” said Ellen. “You can leave. But Heather’s banishment must be handled according to our law.”

“You can’t do that,” said Donny. “Do you understand what her family will do? Not only will you never get the settlement you want. This could mean war. They’re preparing as we speak.”

“That may be,” said Ellen. “But that is the law. And we are ready.”

41

When he got back to the Library, Donny already had his bag packed—everything but the work papers he had left out the night before.

As he tried to put those away with some semblance of organization, he found a copy of one of the stories about his work for the President. He remembered how he had wrestled with the decision to take that case, convincing himself he would save the revolution by standing up for its best values, and showing that they were better than the people they had defeated. He didn’t know that one of the costs of the revolution was that the revolutionaries would learn from their enemies that the value of individual human lives can be easily trumped by the needs of the group. That they valorized nonhuman lives was small comfort.

He crumpled up the clipping and tossed it.

It hit the feet of Marianne Abboud, who was standing at the threshold, smoking a cigarette.

“I saw your door was open,” she said. “I guess it didn’t go well.”

Donny shook his head. “They banished her.”