Finally, Anderson speaks. “I’m no psychiatrist. However, it’s a documented fact that when a child is raised with too much money and too few boundaries, he grows up unwilling to accept ‘no.’ He throws tantrums. Exhibits antisocial behavior. At the same time, he feels worthless. This, too, is a documented fact. Children who are given too many beautiful things without earning them—money, toys, cars—lack a sense of accomplishment. They are absent a core self. The kind of self that well-adjusted people nurture with loving relationships and trusted friends. They carry shame about their families and about themselves.”

Anderson is describing every wealthy kid—every wealthy person—who’s ever lived. By his accounting, every single one could be a rapist. But then he says something that stops me cold.

“The State will show that Billy Quinn is hiding a secret. A secret he has harbored since childhood. This secret festered inside him for years. It made him isolated, self-destructive, and, as you will soon hear, extremely dangerous.”

I jerk my head up. What secret? I glance at Lawrence, but he’s bent over a notepad, scribbling like a madman.

“Because of this secret, the defendant has a fraught relationship with his family. He has no long-term relationships. He graduated from high school having experienced little intimacy with girls, despite his good looks and athletic success. Diana Holly was the first female he ever shared his secret with, except perhaps his sister.”

When Anderson pauses, everyone looks at me. He waits. I try to swallow but can’t.

“Diana was troubled by the defendant’s secret, but he made her swear never to repeat it. Or else, he said. Although Diana agreed, she also encouraged him to get help. When the defendant refused, she broke up with him, at which point he became frantic. He feared that if Diana revealed his secret, the fabric of his life would rip open. Would she protect him? Would she expose him? The defendant couldn’t risk it. Everything—his education, his future, his parents, his brother, his sister—depended on her silence. Soon, his fear turned into rage. He hunted her down, day after day. Begged her to stay with him. No, she replied. No. Leave me alone.”

I can’t believe the jury is buying this. But from the way they lean forward and their eyes track Anderson’s movements, it’s obvious they are, every single one.

The DA continues to talk, establishing the ways that Billy terrorized Diana, and which evidence the State will present to prove them all. A half-hour later, Anderson still hasn’t identified Billy’s secret.