I might as well have landed from outer space and told them I was going to feed them a miracle food that would save their lives. And they’d partaken. Because even though I was a Martian, I looked like them. Sitting in that courtroom, I understood for the thousandth time the enormity of my mistake. The utter failure of it. I should have questioned Mrs. Seager about this new drug I knew virtually nothing about before I shot it into the arm of an eleven-year-old girl. Ignorance was not an excuse. I should have known. I had been trained to know and to ask.
