“In the next three weeks, the State will describe how the defendant and Diana Holly met sixteen months ago in a medical lab. The defendant was instantly captivated. He asked her out, several times. Finally, she agreed. The defendant’s lawyers will try to convince you that he and Diana had a consensual love affair that went on for many months. This is categorically untrue. Within three months, Diana felt the need to separate. By December, she wanted O-U-T. We will prove that the defendant’s kind and well-mannered behavior masked a tormented, unstable interior. He was erratic. Moody. Prone to explosive tantrums. In his presence, Diana started to feel unsafe, then petrified.”

Petrified? Of Billy? The kid with the stutter clinging to a Muppet? Nate must be thinking the same thing because he looks at me and rolls his eyes.

“Diana told the defendant she wanted to break up. She told him not to contact her. But the defendant didn’t like hearing this. On the contrary, instead of respecting her wishes, he ignored her requests, and waged a campaign to change her mind. He sent emails and texts. He called and called. He snuck into her room when she was in class and pretended to be asleep in her bed when she returned. Diana didn’t know what to do. She believed the defendant was vulnerable, possibly mentally ill. She feared that if she reported his behavior, he would be asked to leave Princeton. She knew he’d wanted to practice medicine since childhood. So, instead of protecting herself, she continued to protect him. She said nothing to anyone and lived in constant fear. Meanwhile, the defendant’s rage continued to escalate until March 24, when it erupted in a burst of depraved violence.”

When Anderson stops, I assume he’s finished. But he ambles over to the defense table and positions himself directly in front of Billy. As he speaks, his voice deepens and his chest expands, like he’s filling the courtroom with the heft of his body.

“Let’s return for a moment to the defendant’s emotional issues. What were they, exactly? Why did they have such a claim on his mental health and well-being?”

Anderson rests his hands on the table. Leaning forward, he looks at Billy expectantly, as if waiting for my brother to answer. He stands, unmoving, for an uncomfortable length of time. I start to feel twitchy. I suspect Billy does too because he keeps his head bowed.