According to DeFiore, the central argument for our defense doesn’t hinge on whether or not Billy Quinn had consent to penetrate Diana Holly. Or whether or not Diana Holly was conscious at the time of penetration. Or whether or not Billy Quinn knew Diana Holly’s state of mind during the act of penetration. In many ways, what happened on March 24 is beside the point—to us, anyway. That’s the prosecution’s riddle to solve. To defend my brother successfully, to get an acquittal and keep him out of prison, DeFiore has to answer one simple question: Who is William Matthew Stockton Quinn?

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” DeFiore says. “We’ll put the affluence front and center. We can’t hide the money or privilege. But we shouldn’t play up his childhood illnesses. Strategically, this can backfire. A jury hears developmental problems, they’ll think anger then tantrums then rape.”

“You’re wrong,” I say. “They’ll only make that leap if you push them that way.”

It’s the end of May, six weeks post-arraignment. I’ve come down from school to New Jersey. Nate, Lawrence, and I are meeting with DeFiore, Felicia, and Paul Martinez, the private investigator, in their office. Eleanor is in New York with Billy, who should be here but bowed out. “I can’t,” was his reason.

“No, Cassie,” Felicia says, which annoys me. “You’re wrong. Juries make snap judgments all the time.” She likes to pretend we’re buddies. Behind DeFiore’s back, she jokes about his “Men’s Warehouse castoffs.” But if he’s in the room, she goes out of her way to shut me down and make me look foolish.

I ignore her. “Billy is complicated, but complicated doesn’t mean violent. Complicated means sensitive. Complicated means overcoming adversity. Show the jury he loved Diana, he was vulnerable, and how in the end, he was the victim. The point is his empathy and her anger.”

Lawrence glances at Nate. My brother shakes his head.

“What?” I ask.

Being up in New Haven for the last few weeks has been great. I love having my own space, outside the drama. When I’m there, it feels easier to ignore Marcus, who’s still calling me, now constantly. I’m stronger away from home and don’t answer. I do have guilt, however, about neglecting the trial. I can tell Lawrence and Nate resent me for flitting in and out of town while they work around the clock.

“You’re right, Cassie,” Lawrence says. “But proving Diana harassed Billy won’t be easy. And we run the risk of alienating the jury.”

“My two cents?” We turn to the investigator. Paul Martinez is an unsmiling middle-aged man of average build whose only memorable feature is a gray goatee. This is the second, maybe third time we’ve met, but I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. “Probably best to steer clear of the relationship.”