Collectively, the witnesses are earnest, consistent, and credible. It’s clear that they care about Diana and aim to do right by her. They describe her as a serious and studious, if naïve, young woman who suffered from low self-esteem. Shocked that such a handsome, wealthy guy was interested in her, she was flustered and unsure how to respond. “She doesn’t realize her own beauty,” her mother laments. “Everyone sees it except her.” Diana was flattered by Billy’s attention, but her father, who met him during Parents’ Weekend last fall, was wary. “He’s too perfect. The minute I met him, I knew he was hiding something behind his pretty face and fancy manners.”

Still, Diana continued to date Billy, the witnesses say, even as his porn addiction ramped up and his volatility intensified. When school was back in session, she suggested they separate. Billy reacted poorly. Anderson presents a photo to the jury that is admitted into evidence. Exhibit A-19 is a close-up of a wall in what appears to be a dorm room, punctured with fist-sized holes. Yes, her former roommate says solemnly. The defendant lost his temper and punched out the wall.

It’s impossible not to sympathize with the Diana being portrayed here. Even so, her absence from the courtroom does the State no favors. Since we can’t see her facial expressions or bodily reactions, she is less a person and more an ideal. Meanwhile, the flesh-and-blood Billy comes to life. Hour after hour, the jury sees dismay register in his eyes. He shakes his head and furrows his brow, which makes the female jurors’ faces soften. Watching him, we all feel his suffering. He’s not the damaged sociopath we hear about. He’s a living, breathing human male whose life has been blown apart.

It helps that DeFiore is at the top of his game. During cross-examinations, he’s deliberate and methodical. He finds holes in witnesses’ statements, dates that don’t sync, narratives that diverge. It’s no easy task; there’s not one big lie he can reveal. Instead, he has to chip away at the State’s story, little by little, one detail at a time, and slowly cast a shadow of doubt.

On day five, the State interviews Liza Franklin-Wallace, Diana’s best friend. Clad in a plaid dress, black blazer, and sky-high leather boots, Liza appears sharp and fearless, an ideal sidekick for the mousy, insecure Diana.

“How would you characterize the accused’s behavior when Diana broke up with him?” Fleming asks.

“Billy—excuse me, the accused—was hurt. At first, he left her voicemails and love notes, begging her to reconsider. But his weepiness morphed into aggression. He hounded her. Once, he showed up in her bed while she was in class. Imagine walking into your room, turning on the light, and finding a six-foot man waiting for you under the covers. She was petrified!”