I’m escorted from Calhoun Johnson’s office by all four uniform cops. The Latina who read me my rights holds onto my arm but doesn’t say a word. We don’t stop walking until I’m delivered to booking. It’s a process I’ve also seen numerous times—without recognizing the abject humiliation of being catalogued. The fingerprinting, the mug shot, the confiscation of my belt so I lack the means to take my own life.

After booking, I make my one allocated phone call to Stuart. I’m determined not to break down. It’s important to me that I’m handling this turn of events. So, in as matter-of-fact a tone as I can muster, I tell my husband that I’ve been arrested for Lauren’s murder. I detect a brief moment when he chokes up, but I don’t give him enough time to become completely overwrought before I say, “Call LeMarcus Burrows. He’ll tell you what to do.”

Four hours after my arrest, I’m ushered into the courtroom from the side entrance, which is used exclusively for those in custody. Until the moment before the doors opened, my hands were cuffed behind my back.

LeMarcus Burrows is sitting at the table for defense counsel. I first met LeMarcus when he was an ADA in General Crimes, what now seems like a million years ago. I knew from the get-go that he was putting in his time as an ADA to learn the enemy’s secrets, and that as soon as he’d mastered them, he’d switch sides.

One of the first conversations I ever had with him was about the TV show Law & Order. He said, “You know the beginning, the thing they say about two separate-yet-equally-important groups?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You know it’s wrong, right?”

“No. What’s wrong about it?” I said with a laugh because we were actually discussing the accuracy of a television procedural.

“I don’t know the lines by heart, but it’s basically about how the police investigate crimes but the prosecutors try the offenders.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, we don’t prosecute the offenders, Dana. We prosecute the accused. They’re only the offenders after they’re convicted.”

He was right, but it didn’t stop me from laughing. “You’re not going to last three years here,” I said. “But if I’m ever in trouble, I’m making my one phone call to you.”