After (33 page)

“Thank you,” Dom says. “Your Honor, I have no further questions for the witness.”

“Prosecution? Care to redirect?”

“No, Your Honor,” the prosecutor says. “I’m good.”

“Well, then, thank you for your testimony, Dr. More. You may step down.”

Randomly, a line from a poem creeps into Devon’s mind—
steadfast you hold/this slippery grip on life.
Where had she heard it?

Devon remembers then—along Point Defiance that night, that walkway with the poetry. Holding Connor’s hand. She’d thought of her mom then, thought of her slippery grip on life. And, in contrast, Devon’s own tight one.

But . . . it wasn’t tight enough, not That Night. She’d gripped a life in her hands then, a small life, and she’d just let it slip away. Didn’t she? She’d done nothing to stop it.

“The state calls Dr. Rohit Katial.”

This is the first person the prosecutor’s called whose name Devon recognizes. She is still shaken from the last witness; she wishes Dom would ask for a short break.

Devon watches as the man steps up to the front, raises his right hand. When he settles into the witness stand, she notices him smooth down his tie. He turns his face then, and his eyes meet hers.

Devon feels a jolt, sucks in a hard breath. Her eyes drop to the tabletop before she can read what his say.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Rohit K. Katial.”

“And what is your occupation?”

“I am a physician, a general practice physician.”

“And where do you currently practice?”

The prosecutor spends a lot of time going over Dr. Katial’s credentials—where he went to medical school, his professional affiliations, and where he had practiced medicine throughout his career. Then he works his way through a series of questions which, by its conclusion, draw out the story of Devon’s appointment back on September twelfth.

“Do you recall the exam,” the prosecutor says, “or are you relying soley on your records?”

“I do recall the exam, but I’ve also looked back at my records to refresh my recollection.”

“And would you please tell the court what the typical sports physical exam entails?”

“These exams are essentially well-child examinations, which are biennial, occurring once every two years, generally. During these exams, I take a cursory overall look at the patient’s health. In short, I work my way down the body from the head to the feet. I also rely on what the patient says about his or her own health.”

“Do you routinely take blood or urine samples?”

“No, not routinely, unless the patient complains of specific symptoms that I’d like to further investigate, or during the course of the examination I hear or feel something out of the ordinary.”

“So, during this particular appointment, did the respondent complain of having any symptoms?”

“Yes. Miss Davenport mentioned that she had been experiencing fatigue, which she attributed to her strenuous soccer practices. She also mentioned that she had been urinating more frequently than usual, approximately ten to twelve times each day. Specifically, she related her need to use the bathroom between classes several times throughout the school day. Also during the course of my examination, her mother, who was present in the exam room with her, stated that Miss Davenport had actually vomited that morning before coming to her appointment.”

“Did the respondent concur with this statement that her mother made?”

“Yes. Miss Davenport believed she had vomited that morning because the night before she had eaten spoiled tuna salad. In addition, on the morning of the appointment, her temperature was slightly elevated to one hundred point three.”

“Would you say, Dr. Katial, that the symptoms which the respondent exhibited are consistent with morning sickness, and more specifically, pregnancy?”

“Yes,” Dr. Katial says, “but vomiting, fatigue, and the need to urinate are symptoms of a number of ailments, not unique to pregnancy specifically.”

“At the time of the respondent’s appointment, did you think pregnancy was a possibility?”

“A possibility, yes, but the patient had told me that she had started her menses—her menstrual cycle—that morning, and that she had been menstruating regularly, generally every month. Also, she stridently expressed to me that she was not sexually active. And then an additional factor that I took into consideration was the matter of her slight temperature, which could indicate an infection of some sort. Since Miss Davenport told me she had started menstruating that morning, the likelihood that she could be pregnant fell, in my mind, as less of a possibility than, say, a urinary tract infection or even juvenile diabetes.”

“Did you believe the respondent when she told you that she had started her period that morning?”

“Yes. I had no reason to doubt her.” Dr. Katial pauses. “I generally take my patients at their word.”

Devon has kept her head down during the entire exchange. The doctor knows the end of the story now, knows why he’s sitting in a witness stand answering a prosecutor’s questions. He thinks that she’d lied to him.

Had she?

Devon thinks back to the morning of the appointment.
I kind of started my period today
, Devon had told her mom,
and my stomach’s a little crampy from that.
Had she lied to her mom then? Because what she’d said hadn’t been the truth. But was desperately hoping that something was true and then expressing that hope to someone else a
lie
? And then her mom had suggested that Devon wear a pad so the doctor would get the subtle hint that she was menstruating. Is giving a “hint” based on a hope a lie?

The doctor said he had no reason to doubt her, that he takes his patients at their word
.

Devon wonders what he thinks about that practice now. Has she, Devon Davenport, made it harder for him to ever fully trust his patients again?

If she could, she’d tell him she’s sorry.
I’m not having sex
, she’d yelled at him. And that statement hadn’t been the whole truth, either. She didn’t want to face it then, but that day she knew—buried in some deep place inside herself, but still there—that she was being dishonest. She wanted him to believe that she was still a virgin.

She wanted to believe it herself.

“To narrow down the possibilities,” Dr. Katial is saying now, “the next step is to order tests. So I asked for a urine sample.”

“And did the respondent give that sample to you?”

“No, she did not. Miss Davenport was unable to urinate during the appointment. She was slightly dehydrated, as she had vomited that morning, so I asked that she return a sample to my office within the next day or two. My nurse sent her home with a clean catch urine sample container and instructions on how to do it properly.”

“Yes, but did the respondent return that urine sample to your office, Dr. Katial?”

“No, she never did.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Devon watches the prosecutor pace in front of his table. After a moment he says, “Dr. Katial, did you have any reason to believe that the respondent was trying to deceive you?”

“I didn’t at the time of the appointment, no. But knowing what I know now—”

Dom’s up. “Objection!”

“I’ll sustain that.” Judge Saynisch turns to Dr. Katial. “Doc, you can only tell us what you’ve
experienced
. Not what you’ve learned later.”

“I have no further questions, Your Honor,” the prosecutor says.

Devon looks up. She watches Mr. Floyd return to his seat.

Judge Saynisch looks over at Dom. “Defense?”

Dom stands, but she doesn’t move from behind the table. “Dr. Katial,” she starts, “does the staff at the Urgent Care Center track whether or not its patients return specimen samples when a physician requests them?”

“Not generally, no. Hundreds of patients each week require blood work or other specimen samples, or even scheduling for follow-up appointments. To track each and every patient would necessitate several full-time personnel be dedicated to that specific task.”

“So how then would you know whether or not a patient has returned a specimen sample?”

“Well, I, as a physician, see the lab results once they come in. I generally contact the patient only if the results are abnormal.”

“In your experience, Dr. Katial, do all of your patients follow your advice and return specimen samples, such as urine, to your office?”

“No, not all. Most of my patients do want to get to the bottom of their medical issues, but, certainly, a small percentage are out there who just don’t follow up, for whatever reason.”

“Okay, Dr. Katial. Let’s switch gears for a moment.” Dom looks down at a notebook before her, then walks around to the front of the defense table. “Is it possible for a woman to menstruate during her pregnancy?”

“Not menstruation per se,” Dr. Katial says. “It’s what we call ‘spotting’—basically a bloody discharge, often slightly darker in color than menstrual blood. Spotting can occur when the fertilized egg implants in the uterine wall, usually around the sixth week of pregnancy.”

“Is it true, Dr. Katial, that approximately one in five women, roughly twenty to twenty-five percent, experience spotting during pregnancy?”

“I’m not familiar with the exact statistics as I’m sitting here. But, yes, that number sounds reasonable, based on my experience.”

“And does spotting occur throughout the entire pregnancy?”

“Generally not. When spotting does occur, it’s usually only during the first trimester.”

“During the appointment on September twelfth, Devon would’ve been approximately five weeks pregnant, give or take. This would’ve been during the first trimester of her pregnancy, correct, Dr. Katial?”

“If Miss Davenport had been pregnant for approximately six weeks at the time of her appointment, then yes.”

“So, as you’re sitting here today, you can’t say
definitively
whether Devon was or was not spotting at the time of her appointment on September twelfth, can you, Dr. Katial?”

“No, I cannot.”

“And while you were examining Devon, did you notice if she was wearing any form of feminine protection, such as a sanitary napkin?”

“Yes, I did observe that she was wearing a sanitary napkin.”

“So given the fact that Devon
told
you that she was menstruating and was actually wearing a sanitary napkin—and because you generally take your patients at their word—you would agree that it is likely that Devon was indeed experiencing spotting at the time. Spotting, which she could have misconstrued as menstruation. True, Dr. Katial?”

“Yes, it is possible.”

“Thank you.” Dom sits down. “I have no more questions for the doctor.”

Judge Saynisch looks over at Mr. Floyd. “Redirect?”

“No, Your Honor,” the prosecutor says. “Additionally, the state has no other evidence to present at this time.”

“Then you may step down, Dr. Katial,” Judge Saynisch says. “Thank you for your testimony.”

Devon has no idea if the doctor glanced at her as he passed the defense table.

She’s turned her face away.

“Defense?” The judge has his hands clasped under his chin. “Got anything for me?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Dom stands, reaches to the tabletop and opens the file folder before her. “I have documentary evidence, exhibits A through H, which I would like to present to the court.”

“Present away, Ms. Barcellona.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I have Exhibit A: Devon’s Stadium High School transcript, which annotates her numerous honors classes and her weighted 4.15 grade point average. Exhibit B: a letter from Devon’s guidance counselor at Stadium High School, a Ms. Rita Gonzales, detailing Devon’s numerous extracurricular activities. Exhibit C: a letter from a Mr. Jeff Johnson, a parent of one of the youth soccer players with whom Devon conducts private goalkeeper training sessions. Exhibit D: a letter from a Miss Kaitlyn Bassett, a friend and teammate on both Devon’s varsity high school and club soccer teams. Exhibit E: a letter from a Ms. Nadia Coughran, the teacher in Delta Pod here at Remann Hall. Exhibit F . . . ”

All those people—her guidance counselor, Mr. Johnson—had taken the time to write nice and positive things about her? Even after knowing everything that happened? After reading all those newspaper articles?

Even Kait?
Devon thinks about the last letter Kait wrote, the one Kait had watched Devon crumple into a tight ball and toss in the trash. And still, even after being angry and hurt and drifting apart, she had written another.

Devon quickly switches her thoughts away from Kait to something else. She thinks about the time that’s passed since she came to this place. Only one week and one day ago, Devon was sitting here in the courtroom for the first time. Eight subsequent nights spent lying on a rubberized mattress, staring up at the ceiling in her cinder block cell. Eight mornings waking to the bolt snapping to unlock her door. Eight showers standing naked and shivering under a low-water-pressure showerhead in the pod bathroom. Eight times pulling a black plastic comb through her wet hair afterward.

Eight days. Eight days for those other people, too. Eight days for them to hear about what she’d done. To think about it.

Her thoughts return, full circle, to Kait. Had the soccer team sat on the field before practice, discussing Devon while they strapped on their shin guards and tied up their cleats? Had they probed Kait with questions like, “So, did you know? Did she tell you anything?” And if they had asked such questions, how did it make Kait feel? Knowing that Devon, her supposed best friend, didn’t trust her enough to tell her? How did it make Kait feel when she thought about what Devon did to . . . IT? Did she feel betrayed somehow? That Devon was someone very different from the person she’d always thought her to be? Did she feel like she must have
never
known Devon at all? Had she cried?