I had been awake since three in the morning.
Not from anxiety.
From preparation.
I had been preparing for six months and the preparation was ready and what I needed now was stillness.
I dressed carefully.
A dark blouse.
Good shoes.
The kind of clothes that say: I am taking this seriously.
I arrived at the courthouse at eight-forty-five.
My lawyer, Diane Owens, put me in the lobby.
She said: How are you?
I said: ready.
She looked at me.
She said: Angela.
She said: you need to tell me if there’s anything I don’t know.
I said: you know everything.
She said: Mrs. Wilkes.
I said: she’s coming.
She said: you’re certain.
I said: yes.
She said: and she saw clearly.
I said: she told me what the ring looked like.
Diane looked at me.
She was a good lawyer.
She had the quality of someone who had been doing this for twenty years and who had learned to read the people who sat across from her desk.
