Again, many, many thanks to Storymom, my legal counsel. Her help was invaluable. Anything I get wrong is because I didn't listen to her. And many thanks to Maudgonne and Silverweaver, who always come through with the beta-ing.

On the second day of the trial, the prosecution began by calling Dr. Kormac to the stand. Before they asked him any questions, they wheeled a television into the courtroom so that they could play the video of his interview with Ryan.

Ryan hated watching himself on videotape at the best of times. Kirsten loved to videotape Chrismukkah morning, and she'd pull the camera out at odd times when the boys were goofing around in the backyard. He would tolerate it but do his best to stay off camera as much as possible, which wasn't actually that difficult when Seth was always hamming it up. But on the occasions when she pulled the tapes out and wanted everyone to watch, he always found something he had to do instead – homework, a phone call – anything so he didn't have to hear himself talk in a weird voice that didn't sound like he thought he sounded, or watch himself do things that made him cringe.

And this wasn't the best of times. This was videotape of an interview with a psychiatrist; an interview in which Barry felt he had screwed himself, gave all the wrong answers, and appeared guilty; an interview with a psychiatrist that everyone, especially Kirsten, was going to see and judge.

When the tape started playing, he wanted to slink down in his chair – disappear under the table and cover his ears with his hands. But he knew if he started to slouch, either Barry or Sandy would poke him in his side, reminding him to sit up straight. Barry had told him he couldn't look defeated by the videotape. He felt defeated by the videotape.

Ryan breathed an inward sigh of relief when the interview was over, only to watch the prosecutor stop, rewind, and play certain sections of it as he asked Dr. Kormac questions, replaying Ryan saying "I wasn't attacked."

Barry picked up the remote and pressed play. The next words were Dr. Kormac saying "I thought you had to defend yourself from him." and Ryan replying, "Yeah, but I wasn't attacked."

"Doesn't he say right there that he had to defend himself? Why wouldn't you have delved further into that?"

"I did delve further. I asked him plenty of times how he was feeling. He said he wasn't scared."

"How many cases do you see a day?"

"Objection. Relevance, Your Honor?"

"I think it's very relevant. If he has too many cases, he may not have devoted the proper amount of time to Ryan that he needed to get a true impression."

"Overruled. You can answer the question."

"There's no specific number. Usually eight to ten."

"Are there always more, or do you ever run out?"

"Oh, there are always more."

"So maybe, there are some cases that don't get all the time they need?"

"That's always a possibility, but in this case I got everything I needed."

"Everything you needed for the prosecution to make its case, or everything you needed to understand my client?"

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn. No further questions."

"Redirect?" The prosecutor got up and rewound the tape. "I wasn't attacked," his taped version said. Ryan wanted to get up and punch his taped version in the face.

"Dr. Kormac, in your professional opinion, did Ryan Atwood feel threatened?"

"No."

"In your professional opinion, was Ryan Atwood a willing participant in the fight?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Dr. Kormac. The defense rests."

The judge looked at the clock on the wall. "All right, we'll recess for lunch and resume again at one o'clock. Mr. Dunbar, you'll have your first witness ready then?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

He banged his gavel. "Court dismissed until one o'clock."

As they left the courtroom, Sandy and Barry each pulled out their cell phones. Sandy called Seth to make sure he was on his way while Barry called the other witnesses scheduled for that afternoon.

Kirsten and Ryan walked together to the cafeteria. They pushed their trays along the smooth metal bars, Kirsten wanting to say something but not knowing what. He hadn't said a word to her since they left the courtroom and seemed to be avoiding her eye. She reached for a chef's salad, trying to think of something light-hearted to say. But since they had all been living the trial for the past few days, it was hard to think of something neutral. As he reached for a tuna sandwich, she heard him say, "I'm sorry."

She stopped her tray and looked at him. "For what?"

He wouldn't look at her, and didn't answer; he just reached in the refrigerated compartment for a juice. She started moving again, not wanting to hold up the line.

"For disrupting everyone's lives and causing this mess."

She turned to him to reply, but he only nodded his head, indicating that the cashier was waiting for her to pay. She paid for the two trays and then led him to a table by the far wall. Once they were seated she watched as he slowly peeled the plastic off his sandwich, careful not to rip it as he did. She opened her salad and shook her packet of dressing. "It's not your fault, Ryan. This could have happened to anyone."

"But it didn't. It happened to me, like it always does."

"You do seem to have more than your fair share of it." She let a smile play at the corners of her mouth. "I think it's part of what makes you so endearing."

He didn't react to her needling, continuing with his self-blame. "It'll be easier once I'm in prison and you won't have to worry about me anymore."

"No matter what the outcome, Ryan, I will always worry about you. You are a part of our family." She tried to lighten the mood again. "You can't get rid of us this easily."

She saw his face soften but he didn't have time to reply before a large hand clapped him on the shoulder as Barry and Sandy sat down beside them. "Why so glum?" Barry said. "I killed in there this morning."

"So did the prosecutor," Ryan said.

"Yeah, well, it's our turn now. We've got a great defense, Ryan. And you've got the best lawyer working for you."

"Hey, now," Sandy said. "Lawyers. He's got the best lawyers working him."

Kirsten watched as Ryan smiled at the two men debating their respective merits. She just hoped they were right.

When they returned to the floor of the courtroom, they found Seth waiting for them, pacing back and forth.

"Nervous?" Barry asked.

"Not for me," Seth said. He turned to Ryan. "I wish I could be in there with you."

"Nah, man, it's pretty boring."

"Ryan," Barry said. "It's time to go in."

"I'll see you in a few." Seth held out his hand.

Ryan slapped it back. "Just tell the truth. You'll be fine."

"Always, bro. You'll be fine too."

Once everyone was settled, Barry called their first witness, the bouncer who threw Ryan and Jake out of the club.

"Were you familiar with the deceased before that night?"

"Jake? Yeah. He was at The Palace all the time."

"Did you ever have trouble with him before?"

"All the time. He was always getting drunk and getting into fights. My manager had told me to ban him the next time he caused trouble. So I did, when I threw him out that night."

"What did they do after you escorted them out of the club?"

"I don't know. I didn't stick around. I went back inside."

"Were they still fighting?"

"I think I saw Ryan walk away. I didn't see where Jake went."

"Okay. Thank you."

The prosecution began its questioning. "Had you seen the defendant before that night?"

"No."

"So why did he get thrown out?"

"He was fighting in the bar."

"Not being attacked?"

"Well, he was pushed first. But he pushed back. Then Jake threw a punch and we stepped in before any more punches could be thrown."

"Was Mr. Atwood going to throw a punch?"

"Objection," Barry said. "He can't know what was or wasn't going to happen."

"Sustained."

"I'll rephrase. Could you see Mr. Atwood preparing to punch back?"

"His arm was pulled back. If we hadn't stepped in, it looked like he was going to punch back."

"Thank you."

After hearing both sides question the bouncer, even Ryan felt confused. Both sides had made sense, and he had no idea how they jury was going to decide who had made more points.

The next person Barry called to the stand was the nurse from prison who first examined Ryan. He placed a placard on the courtroom easel, displaying the photographs of the bruises on Ryan's face, neck, and torso. Ryan was embarrassed to look at them. Sandy had been there when the pictures had been taken; Seth had walked in on him unexpectedly in the pool house; but he hadn't let Kirsten see his injuries and he wished she wasn't seeing them now.

Seeing the close-up of the bruises, his hand instinctively rubbed his neck, trying to brush away the phantom memory of hands squeezing out his breath. He couldn't shake the feeling or tear his eyes away from the pictures. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, shivering as he forced the memory away.

Barry pointed at the photographs. "Are these injuries the same as what you saw when you examined him the night of his arrest?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you about his injuries, or complain about them?"

"No, not at all. I discovered his bruises while doing his routine intake exam. The pressure from the stethoscope was causing him obvious pain. I asked him to remove his shirt and that's when I saw the majority of his bruising."

She went on to describe the bruising and cuts on his face and the bruising around his neck. She said she thought that his ribs were at the very least bruised, if not cracked, but that he refused her offer to tape them up to make him more comfortable.

Barry finished his questioning and turned the witness over to the prosecution. "Were his hands injured?"

The nurse looked at her notes. "Yes. I have here that his knuckles were bruised, scrapped and swollen."

"From punching someone?"

"I don't really know. I don't concern myself with how they get their injuries. I just worry about patching them up."

"Thank you."

Barry called Seth in as a witness. As Ryan watched him enter, he worried about what he was going to say. He knew Seth would tell the truth, but he also knew Seth had a tendency to ramble and speak without thinking when he was nervous. Barry had gone over his testimony with him enough, but who knew what the prosecution might get him to say.

Seth was describing the initial run-in with Jake – Ryan's fateful mistake of not paying attention where he was going. He said how Jake seemed angry at them just because they weren't from around there and that Ryan had even commented on trying to stay out his way for the night.

Seth said that he thought they had done a good job avoiding Jake. Ryan smirked at that, because Seth hadn't been there when he and Jake had had words at the bar. Then Seth had gone to the bathroom and Ryan had disappeared when he got back. He had looked around for a bit and had just about given up when he went outside and found him.

"How did you know to go outside?"

"I heard these two girls talking. One of them said Jake had been kicked out for fighting and the other one told her she'd been flirting with some guy to make Jake jealous. I remember she said Jake because otherwise I wouldn't have thought twice about it but Jake was the name of the guy who had it in for Ryan earlier."

"What did the girls that you overheard look like?"

"They were both short. The first one had short dark hair and the one who said she'd been flirting had long red hair."

"And did you find Ryan outside?"

"Yeah. I got outside in time to see him being driven away in a police car."

"Thank you, Seth. I have no further questions at this point."

The prosecutor stood up and walked back and forth in front of Seth, deep in thought. He stopped and turned towards the witness box. "Tell me again about this conversation you allegedly overheard."

"Allegedly?" Seth looked over at Barry, expecting him to object to the prosecutor calling him a liar. "I did overhear it."

The prosecutor flipped through the pages he was holding in his hand. "Really? Because I have your previous statement here, and you made no mention of this conversation you are now claiming to have heard."

"I had forgotten about it. There was so much other stuff to think about that night that it slipped my mind."

"And what jogged your memory of this supposed conversation?"

"I was talking to my mom and Ryan about the trial. They told me some girl testified that Ryan had come on to her that night and that is so unlike Ryan…"

"Mr. Cohen, stick to answering the question without editorializing, please."

"I thought I was," Seth said. "When they told me about the testimony, I remembered overhearing the girls talking. I described the girl to them; they didn't tell me anything about her."

"What's your relationship with Mr. Atwood?"

"He's my best friend. He lives with my family – he's like my brother."

"And you'd do anything you could to keep him out of jail?"

Seth looked near tears at the accusations being directed towards him. "I wouldn't lie."

"You'll just remember conversations that previously hadn't taken place."

"Objection!" Barry finally interrupted. "Argumentative."

"Sustained."

"How very convenient for Mr. Atwood," the prosecutor said.

"Your honor?" Barry said.

"Withdrawn. No further questions."

Silence hung in the Cohen kitchen as they ate that night. Ryan could feel Kirsten's eyes boring through him, as though she was trying to see the injuries that had long since healed. Seth was simmering. He was trying to process what happened in the courtroom that afternoon, and Ryan felt that an explosion was coming soon.

Barry and Sandy came into the kitchen to get some pizza to take back to the office where they were working. Barry put his hands on Ryan's shoulders. "Home stretch now. One more witness and then it's in the hands of jury."

Ryan picked at the toppings on his pizza, eating a mushroom, a piece of pepperoni, pulling at some cheese. "I could always take the stand. Let the jury hear my side of the story."

Barry laughed as he squeezed Ryan's shoulders. "Sure, Ryan. If I let the prosecution question you, I can almost guarantee a conviction."

Ryan just nodded as he tore at a piece of the crust.

"Look, we've done everything we can. Between the testimony today and Dr. Patel's tomorrow, hopefully we've introduced enough reasonable doubt to get an acquittal."

"Hopefully?" Seth looked at his dad. "You said he wouldn't be going to jail. You said you would get him off."

"Seth, I told you we had a good case. And that the jury would most likely take our side. But I didn't promise we'd get Ryan off. And Ryan knows that."

Seth looked from Ryan to Barry and back to his dad. "Did I screw it up by not remembering the conversation earlier?"

"Seth," Barry said. "What happened inside the club isn't as important as what happened outside the club."

Seth pushed back from the table and stalked across the kitchen. He stopped when he reached his dad. "You were supposed to protect him. Not let him go to jail."

After they heard him stomp up the stairs and close his bedroom door, Sandy turned to Kirsten. ''Should I go talk to him, or let him cool down?"

Ryan was wiping his hands on a napkin as he stood up. "I thought I might…"

"Sure." Sandy nodded. "That might be a good idea."

Ryan knocked on Seth's door and opened it when he got what he interpreted as a grunt of approval. It may have been a grunt of "Leave me alone", but he took his chances. He sat down in the desk chair and swiveled it around so he was facing Seth, who was sprawled on his bed.

"Hey."

Seth rolled on his side and propped his head up on his hand. "You really might have to go to jail."

"Yeah." Ryan nodded. "Actually, I'll end up in prison, not jail." He tried smiling at Seth, at the absurdity of the conversation, but Seth wasn't ready for joking yet.

"Do you think the jury will believe Amanda's story?"

"I don't see any reason for them not to. We don't have much to refute her story."

Seth sat up on his bed. "I refuted her story."

"Yeah, but I live in your house, which gives you incentive to lie."

"Well, what's her incentive to lie? She told you they were broken up. Why would she change her story?"

"I don't know." Ryan shrugged and shook his head. "I've been trying to figure it out. It's just, sometimes I guess, death changes things."

"What do you mean?"

Ryan was remembering the family that lived next door to them when they first moved to Chino. The husband was the meanest son of a bitch Ryan had ever known. He beat his wife, he beat his kids, he beat the dog. He drank his paycheck away and expected his wife to work two jobs. He had heard the wife badmouthing her husband to his mom all the time. When the husband died in a construction accident, he expected everyone to be happy to be rid of him. But the wife was distraught and all the neighborhood women offered condolences and everyone seemed to be singing his praises to her. He had wanted to ask his mom why everyone was sad, but he was old enough to know better than to question why adults did what they did.

"She may not have wanted to be with him, but she didn't want him to not be there at all. I guess she wants me to pay for taking him away."

"Do you think it'll work?"

"Barry seems to think Dr. Patel can explain my actions so that the jury will understand."

"What's she going to say?"

Ryan thought back to Barry's opening statement. "I don't know."

The doorbell was ringing as Ryan came back down the stairs. He opened the door and found Dr. Patel waiting outside.

"Hi, Ryan."

He took a step back. "Come on in. Barry and Sandy are around the corner in Sandy's office."

"Thanks." Her high heels clicked on the marble floor. "Can I talk to you for a few minutes first?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice."

Ryan smiled at her and led her into the living room. "You say that."

They sat down at either end of the couch. "So. How's the trial going for you?"

Ryan sighed. "It's rough."

Dr. Patel didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"Just … reliving it. You know?"

She nodded.

"And having other people relive it with me."

"The people who love you will get past it."

"I guess."

Dr. Patel sat quietly for a few moments before changing the subject. "Did Barry and Sandy tell you what I'm going to say tomorrow?"

"Barry's opening statement sort of gave it away. Something about being a victim of my life to make the jury feel sorry for me?"

"Is that how Barry said it?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Well, that's more of a lawyer's view – his way of boiling it down for the jury. I wouldn't say victim of your life; more a product of your life. Everyone's reactions are shaped by their upbringing and different … events … have different effects on people. How you react to authority and force and in the face of trouble is a result of your experiences. And that's what I'm going to tell the jury tomorrow.

"But Ryan, just because your actions can be explained by your past, doesn't mean you can't work on changing how you react to things."

Ryan nodded, without looking at Dr. Patel, but he didn't agree with her. His reactions were automatic, not anything he thought about. How could he change that? He chewed on his inner cheek, bracing himself for whatever else she was going to say. He could feel her looking at him.

"Okay, Ryan, I think the trial is enough for you to deal with right now. But eventually, in the future, I'd like to see you look back at your life and think about why you are who you are."

He glanced over at her as she stood up.

"I think you're a great kid, Ryan, with big things in your future."

"If the jury agrees with you."

She smiled at him. "I'll do my best to convince them of it."

Ryan sat on the couch for a few minutes after Dr. Patel left, thinking about the trial and wondering exactly what she was going to say to the jury. When he got up to go to the pool house, he could see Kirsten sitting at the dining table. Wanting to avoid any more conversations that night, he decided to bypass the kitchen and head out the patio doors instead. Tomorrow his future would lie in the hands of 12 men and women who had never met him before and knew nothing about him.

He glanced back at Kirsten before he opened the pool house door. She hadn't trusted him when they first met, and he hadn't even killed anyone at that point. Why should he think the jury would feel any different?