DeFiore steps in. “Folks, folks. Let’s focus. We don’t have much time. Cassie, your brother looks fine. Exhausted, petrified, but no dings.”

“So, what’s the not-so-good news?” Eleanor wants to know.

“The DA is going to argue against release.”

“What?” She turns to Lawrence. “What is he saying? They’re won’t let Billy out?”

“They won’t win,” Lawrence reassures her. “Peter and I discussed this yesterday.”

“No, of course not,” DeFiore agrees. “But their argument is meaningful. I don’t know what your husband has told you, Mrs. Quinn, but the DA has witnesses, two Princeton students who came upon Billy with the accuser. They’re alleging that she was unconscious, er, unresponsive, rather.”

“Unconscious?” Eleanor grabs Lawrence’s arm. “Did you know this?”

Nate and I stiffen; we keep our eyes locked on the floor. Oh Lawrence, I think.

“It’s a point of contention,” he says. “There’s no evidence—”

“No confirmed evidence,” DeFiore clarifies. “We’re still waiting. This is Billy’s first arrest. He is a model student. They have no legitimate reason to detain him. But Anderson will argue that he exhibited what they call ‘willful and depraved disregard for the girl’s welfare.’ He’s sending a message.”

“What kind of message?”

“Given the climate, the facts of the case so far, the press—”

“The press? There’s been nothing in the press,” Eleanor says, her pitch rising.

“After today, there will be, Mrs. Quinn. They’re going to use Billy. Make an example—”

“But what about the girl? What about Diana?”

A shadow crosses DeFiore’s face. Clearly, he wants Eleanor to let him finish a goddamn sentence, but for all the guy’s smarts, he doesn’t grasp that she’s paying him to let her speak. In fact, she’d much rather shell out three times his rate to a Park Avenue attorney who knew enough to shut his mouth when she’s talking, wipe his forehead, and buy a decent suit that fits. “What about Diana?” he asks wearily.

“Diana and Billy’s relationship? How does that fit in?”

“Right now, it doesn’t.” DeFiore starts to add something else then decides against it. Promising we’ll all talk soon, he disappears behind a concealed door.

Eleanor looks shell-shocked, and Lawrence tries to take her arm, but she shrugs him off.

“Billy will be fine,” the Bowtie murmurs as a sheriff opens the courtroom doors. Laying a protective hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, he maneuvers her inside. “As will you.”

Stepping forward, Eleanor maintains a safe distance from the rest of us, as if she’d just met us for the first time and wasn’t impressed.

* * *