I’m embarrassed to say I lost track of Liselle in that first month. Not lost track exactly—I knew she was in her townhouse and she visited my office a few times to help explain some of the materials in the prosecution’s discovery file, and I knew that her immediate needs, like getting to the grocery store, were being met. No, I mean I lost track of the upheaval in her life—of being placed under house arrest in a strange town, of being kept from a job you love, of being utterly without friends or family for support. You’d think with my track record…well, you’d just think that I would have been
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