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She glared at Appleby in a state of fury. They weren’t ready for this. She wasn’t prepared for this line of questioning. They needed a plan. She needed coaching. She needed to vomit. Her mind swam, her thoughts racing.
    Appleby’s eyes rested on his Blackberry, apparently lost in some other project.
    The prosecutor asked more deliberately now. “You were taught to heal the sick and save lives. Dr. DeBrow, why should we expect any less of you when Jamar Reading’s life was at stake?” Her condemnatory tone made the veins in Alexa’s throat throb. “Was it because he was a black man ? Is that why you chose to let him bleed to death in the alley?”
    Now you’re calling me a racist? The media will love this . News reporters had successfully twisted her story into a racial conflict that highlighted the disparities between upper- and lower-class Americans. Both issues had gained attention of left-wing radicals who criticized Alexa under the spotlight of the television cameras.
    “What’s the first rule when dealing with an arterial bleed, Dr. DeBrow?”
    Hold pressure . The words echoed in her head.
    Finkle continued through narrowed eyes. “How is it that someone with such advanced training and education is incapable of carrying out the most basic medical treatment strategies? Why didn’t you hold pressure on Jamar’s gaping wound, Doctor? It’s your responsibility as a physician, Dr. DeBrow. Why did you let Jamar die when you alone were capable of saving him?” Her accusatory voice echoed through the courtroom.
    Alexa sat, silently appalled.
    Why is Appleby still enthralled with his Blackberry? She really needed him now. She stared him down while screaming Jacob! in her head over and over.
    “Dr. DeBrow?” asked the prosecution.
    She froze.
    “Miss DeBrow, answer Ms. Finkle’s question.” It was the judge now.
    But Alexa wouldn’t answer. She gritted her teeth and shook her head slightly back and forth. No. Not going to hang myself on your questions. She needed coaching. They shouldn’t be asking this of me. Why would I save him? Don’t they know I wanted him dead ?
    Appleby’s head bobbed up from the Blackberry, and he seemed aware of what was happening in the courtroom. “I’d like to call for a recess in regards to the new line of questioning on my client.”
    Finally!
    Nods exchanged between the judge and prosecution. The judge banged the gavel. Alexa was afraid to move. Appleby had to walk to the front of the room and take her by the arm to coax her from her chair.

CHAPTER 5
    H old pressure. Hold pressure.
    The words echoed in her brain. Of course Alexa would hold pressure if a patient’s life were at stake. If it had been a family member, a friend, a stranger in distress, she would have stepped up to help them. But it wasn’t a patient that she found in the alley that night; it wasn’t even a human being she’d encountered. It was a monster. Jamar Reading was a monster. As he smashed her head against the alley cobblestones, Alexa had only one thought on her mind — not to escape, but to kill the man who hurt her. She was afraid to speak on the stand, fearing those words might escape her lips, and she would condemn herself.
    The idea that she would ever try to save him was outlandish. Why would anyone try to save a monster? She left the courtroom disheartened and disheveled.
    Appleby escorted her into the hallway. She caught Jimmy Thornton’s glance as she exited the courtroom. She hadn’t noticed him in the audience. She turned away from him trying to avoid his questioning stare. Thankfully, Appleby tugged her aside.
    “Try to relax, Miss DeBrow. This is her attempt to try you for criminally negligent homicide; it’s a step down from manslaughter. Take comfort in that.” He sat her on a bench far away from the crowd while he paced a few steps away and made calls on his Blackberry.
    Too flustered to relax, her mind raced. Why is Jimmy here? Jimmy Thornton was more intimately involved