I opened the folder.
Preston watched my hands instead of the judge.
That was how I knew Harold had been right about him.
A man confident in the truth would have been waiting to answer.
Preston was waiting to see what we possessed.
Judge Eamon Fitzwilliam repeated the question.
“Doctor, when exactly did you examine Ms.
Holloway?”
Preston cleared his throat.
“My observations developed over an extended period.”
“That was not my question.”
The courtroom seemed to shrink around him.
I could hear the air-conditioning click off.
Colette’s fingers tightened around the strap of her handbag.
Preston tried again.
“I have known Adeline for years.
I have had numerous opportunities to observe her behavior.”
Judge Fitzwilliam folded his glasses and placed them on the bench.
“Did you conduct a medical examination of her?”
“No formal examination, no.”
“Did she ever become your patient?”
“No.”
“Did she authorize you to evaluate her?”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
The silence afterward felt different from the silence before it.
Until that moment, I had been the woman on trial without technically being on trial.
Every ordinary thing about me had been turned into evidence.
I had lived with my dying mother, therefore I was controlling.
I had organized her medicine, therefore I was obsessive.
I had stopped answering Colette’s late-night arguments, therefore I was isolating myself.
I had cried after Mom died, therefore I was emotionally fragile.
Now the attention moved across the aisle.
Harold stood.
“Your Honor, may I?”
The judge nodded.
Harold walked toward Preston carrying only a legal pad.
“Dr.
Keen, you testified that Ms.
Holloway was irrational.
Correct?”
“Yes.”
“And that she was incapable of managing significant assets?”
“I said I had concerns.”
“You used the phrase ‘needs protection from herself.’”
“In my medical judgment.”
Harold let those words sit for a second.
“Your medical judgment based on no examination.”
Preston shifted in the witness chair.
“Clinical judgment can be informed by observation.”
“Observation at family gatherings?”
“Among other circumstances.”
“How many times did you see Adeline during the final four months of Margaret Holloway’s life?”
Preston looked at Colette.
Harold noticed.
“So did I.
