After (37 page)

“Did Devon ever harm them in any way?”

“No, never.”

“Did she ever lose her patience and yell at them or even hit them?”

“No.”

“Did you ever notice any evidence of neglect? Such as her failing to change their diapers or feed them? Such as leaving them in front of the TV for long periods of time? Or leaving them inside their beds or room unsupervised?”

“No. She actually helped potty train the twins, since she was with them so much during the day, and that takes a lot of determination, let me tell you!”

Dom nods. “Did Devon ever bring male visitors into your home, Ms. Evans?”

“Absolutely not. She never even talked on her cell phone while she was watching the twins, unless she was talking to me, of course. No, she took her job very seriously. We even discussed it once or twice. She told me that she had plenty of time for her friends when she wasn’t at work. That if she had any other job—at a restaurant or in the mall or at a grocery store—she wouldn’t be able to talk on the phone, so she shouldn’t do it while she’s watching the twins, either.”

“Ms. Evans, are you aware of Devon’s charges? That shortly after giving birth eleven days ago, Devon allegedly attempted to murder her newborn child when she threw her in the trash can behind her apartment complex?”

“Unfortunately.” Debbie shakes her head, looks down at her hands. “Yes, I am.”

“So, Ms. Evans, knowing this information, would you ever have Devon babysit your children again?”

Debbie looks up at Dom. Then she scans the courtroom, her eyes finally finding Devon’s. For once, Devon doesn’t drop her eyes. Not only does Devon want to hear what Debbie has to say, she wants to
see
her say it, too.

“Yes, I would,” Debbie says finally. “And I mean it. Many people, those who know that Devon had watched the twins this summer, have asked me that very same question. And I tell them that if Devon really did what she’s accused of doing—dumping her own baby in the trash—something very terrible and desperate must have happened for her to resort to that. I’ve never witnessed Devon in a crisis situation, but that morning must have been it. You know, I’ve been sitting here in the courtroom most of the day today, and I’ve heard what’s been said, and it may be inappropriate for me to say this, but I’m going to do it anyway: I do not believe that Devon had planned on hurting that baby. It’s just not in her. She may be an aggressive soccer player, but she’d never
ever
intentionally hurt anybody, and absolutely never someone as defenseless as a child. So, yes, I would have no reservations whatsoever about asking Devon to babysit my twins again.”

The courtroom is silent. Devon’s eyes are still connected to Debbie’s.

“In fact,” she says, “if she were available next week, I’d make a point to call her. That’s how strongly I feel about it.”

She’s talking to me
, Devon thinks.
Directly to me.
Devon feels something deep inside herself crack. A feeling, warm and nervous, moves through her. Melting what’s been cold.

“Thank you,” Dom says. As she turns around, she glances over at the prosecutor. “I have no further questions.”

Dom walks back to her seat behind the defense table.

Judge Saynisch clears his throat. “State? Care to examine the witness?”

“No, Your Honor,” Mr. Floyd says. “I do not.”

“All right, then,” the judge says. “You may now step down, Ms. Evans. Thank you for your testimony.”

“You’re very welcome,” Debbie says.

As Debbie steps away from the witness stand, Dom leans over to Devon. “Still hanging in there?”

Devon turns to Dom. She shakes her head, whispers, “No . . .”

That coldness inside her had melted too fast.

These people—Coach Mark, Debbie, Henrietta, Kait, even her mom—they don’t hate her.

And Devon starts to cry.

“The defense calls Dr. Nicole Bacon.”

It takes Devon a moment to recognize the woman whom Judge Saynisch swears in, because she doesn’t resemble the Dr. Bacon that Devon knows from Remann Hall. A tight bun and charcoal suit replace the long graying braid and earthy skirts she’s worn before. Instead of the hemp mocs, she’s wearing stiff professional-looking black shoes, pointed at the toes.

“Please state your name for the record,” Dom says.

“Nicole Alexis Bacon.”

“And what is your occupation?”

As Dom goes through Dr. Bacon’s credentials and employment history, and why she’s qualified to testify as an expert witness, Devon allows herself a moment to tune out. She’s so entirely wiped. Her jaw hurts; she must have been clenching her teeth the entire day.

So much like being in the goal, she thinks. Moments of intense boredom as the battle is being waged up the field in the offensive half, or moments of extreme stress, when the ball’s in her box and chaos is all around. Players pushing and scrambling to get a foot on the ball. Or, in Devon’s case, a hand. Exhausting not just physically, but also mentally.

That is what sitting in court feels like. But much, much worse. And so much more is riding on it than the outcome of a soccer game.

“Denial is a defense mechanism,” Dr. Bacon is saying now. “In simple terms, it’s the mind’s ability to
not
acknowledge something that is truly happening. It’s the mind’s way of keeping unpleasant things in check so that we don’t become distressed all the time. Dr. Benjamin B. Wolman, in his classic work, the
Handbook of Clinical Psychology
, defines
denial
as, quote, ‘a defense against the perception of a painful reality.’ So, in Devon’s case, that ‘painful reality’ from which she was protecting herself was her pregnancy. Actually”—Dr. Bacon puts her hand up—“we’d need to first acknowledge her
primary
painful reality. This is what triggered everything that followed.”

“Please explain,” Dom says.

Dr. Bacon nods. “Of course. Devon’s primary painful reality—or the event that triggered everything else that followed—occurred when she first engaged in sexual activity. When she denied this fact to herself—the fact that she ever had sex at all—then the natural extension of this primary denial was avoiding the subsequent reality. This subsequent reality was the resulting pregnancy from that one sexual encounter.”

“But, Dr. Bacon, in today’s society, teen sexual activity is rather rampant. TV, movies, and popular music generally portray sex as something positive, an experience to strive for. So why would Devon feel so negatively about having engaged in sexual activity herself?”

“I believe shame played a major role,” Dr. Bacon says. “When you hide something, or deny that something occurred, it’s generally because you are ashamed.”

“Yes, but what would Devon have been ashamed of?”

“During my sessions with Devon, I learned that Devon had viewed herself in a very particular—very
rigid
—way. She desperately needed to see herself as someone diametrically different from her mother.”

“But isn’t it common for teenage girls to have issues with their mothers? To want to be different from them? Sometimes to the extreme?”

“Yes. It’s very common in adolescence to define oneself in terms distinct from one’s same-sex parent. It’s an important component of the identity’s development process. But Devon was extremely strict in her definition of self. She had constructed some stringent rules for herself with not much wiggle room.”

“And what were these rules, Dr. Bacon?”

“Devon’s mother had been a teen parent herself; she had Devon when she herself was sixteen. And as Devon grew up, her mother entered into relationship after relationship with a variety of men. She paraded her sexuality in front of Devon in a manner that Devon both resented and feared. She watched her mother struggle financially. She witnessed firsthand the result of forgoing an education; her mom had earned her G.E.D. eventually, but never attended college. Devon was terrified of repeating this family history. So, she came up with Rule Number One for herself—avoid any sexual activity altogether. When Devon succumbed to it—broke her own rule—in her mind she had failed beyond forgiveness. She was so ashamed that she completely blocked out the memory of it. If she couldn’t remember it, then therefore, in her mind, it never happened.”

“Was Devon aware of the various forms of contraception?”

“Yes, we briefly discussed that. She’d learned a lot about birth control over the years during sex education classes at school and from her classmates. And also from her mother, incidentally. Devon’s mother was generally very open about sexuality.”

“Then why didn’t Devon use it?”

“Well, if she had used a form of birth control, such as taking the pill or purchasing condoms, then this would be admitting to herself and others that she
planned
to have intercourse. Her self-imposed rule would never have allowed that.”

“Okay, so just to quickly recap, Dr. Bacon, in your opinion, Devon’s mind kicked into denial mode because she couldn’t deal with the fact that she had had sex. Because she had convinced herself that the sexual relationship never occurred, she could then rationalize away the possibility that she might be pregnant.”

“Exactly.” Dr. Bacon nods. “And to throw another factor in the pregnancy denial equation, an interesting phenomenon that occurs in most of these cases is this: the pregnant woman’s family and friends also deny the existence of a pregnancy. They don’t want to see it, either, for their own reasons. So they are complicit in the denial; they reinforce it. In Devon’s case,
nobody
confronted her with her pregnancy. Not her mother. And not one of Devon’s peers confronted her—no teammate or teacher or classmate or coach. If anyone suspected a pregnancy, they certainly didn’t step forward.”

“What about the physical changes that occur during a pregnancy? The weight gain, the missed periods, the fatigue and vomiting. And as the pregnancy progresses, the enlarged abdomen that’s unique to pregnancy. How do these women maintain the denial at that point?”

Dr. Bacon shrugs. “It’s pretty simple, actually. Don’t we all try to hide the extra ten pounds we’ve packed on over the Thanksgiving to New Year holiday season? We put on the bulky sweatshirt and looser jeans. It’s the same with these women; they attribute their changing bodies to weight gain.” Dr. Bacon pauses. “The issue of a missed period is reasonable, too. It’s common for teenaged girls to experience irregular periods anyway. In Devon’s case, she’s a girl who’s very athletic and exercises at an exceptionally intense level. A female athlete often experiences a disruption in the menstrual cycle; this is a menstrual disorder called amenorrhea. It’s usually due to an imbalance of caloric intake. Not enough calories taken in to compensate for the calories burned during exercise. So when Devon started missing her monthly period, she really wasn’t anxious about it. It had happened before.”

“So Devon denied engaging in any sexual activity. And she denied the possibility of pregnancy. But Devon was pregnant all along, Dr. Bacon.”

“That’s right.”

“So, in your expert opinion, what happened when the time came for her to finally give birth?”

“All right, think of it this way: if anybody sitting in this room, let’s say the Honorable Judge Saynisch, for instance, suddenly had a baby burst from his body—”

“Objection!”

Judge Saynisch shakes his head disparagingly. “Have a sense of humor, Mr. Floyd. I, myself, am intrigued by the proposition. Continue, Dr. Bacon.”

Dr. Bacon nods. “Thank you. Now, if Judge Saynisch suddenly gave birth to a baby, it would be an extremely shocking, not to mention emotionally wrenching, situation. Wouldn’t it? Remember, for eight or nine long months, no pregnancy existed in Devon’s mind. For the average woman, during that same nine-month period, she’d be thinking about her baby—what will its sex be? What will it look like? What should I name it? But for Devon, there
was
no baby. She formed no bond with that unborn child. So, when the baby finally arrived, this ‘thing’ she’d been hiding from everybody, including from herself, is inexplicably there. To her, it’s not a living being. It’s something she must continue to hide. So, she placed it in a garbage bag and threw it away. And,
voilà
, the denial continues. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Devon is staring at Dr. Bacon. Listening to this is like looking in a mirror. Like staring at her own reflection. But how does the doctor know all this? Devon hadn’t told her most of those things. She’d told Dr. Bacon about her mom, about growing up. About her middle name, Sky, and how it made her feel. She’d answered Dr. Bacon’s questions as fully as she could. But she’s never told anyone, not even Dom, what she’d experienced That Night.

“For most of the women who have abandoned their newborn babies shortly after giving birth and leaving them to die,” Dr. Bacon is saying, “the reality that they’ve carefully constructed for themselves comes crashing down around them. The moment of birth is the moment they realize everything they’ve believed to be true about themselves was a lie. It’s not a matter of
planning
to kill their newborns, it’s a matter of panic—”

Others have done this? How did Devon not know that?

A small relief sweeps through her.

She’s not the only one.