Part 10 (2/2)
I tried to make Doctor sound like a dirty word.
”Yes.”
”And they are paying you for your testimony, aren't they?”
”No, sir. I'm being paid for my time. My testimony is my own.”
d.a.m.n it. It was an old trick, and she dodged it perfectly. Nigel and John had prepped her well. d.a.m.n them too.
I looked at Sarah on the stand. I didn't want to hurt her. She'd trusted me. I liked her. Maybe more than like.
I don't want to do this, I thought. I won't do this.
I could see it now. It was a dead heat. All those weeks of sleepless nights, endless motions, skipped meals, nightmares, sneaking into the men's room to puke my nerves away. I hadn't talked to my parents in a month. I hadn't gone on a date, seen a movie, had a beer. I was so sure that this was the way to the V&D--to success beyond my wildest dreams--that I hadn't studied for my cla.s.ses or even attended them. G.o.d help me if I had to rely on those grades! I had all my eggs in this one basket. This case. I couldn't lose. Not to mention Daphne, who hadn't laid a hand on me since that night outside my dorm room. G.o.dd.a.m.n her lips! My career, my future, my life. The whole d.a.m.n thing hung in the balance.
I don't want to do this.
On the stand, Sarah looked relaxed now, calm. She caught my eye, and there was a hint of a smile--a shared secret. She'd already decided I wasn't going to hurt her. It was almost smug when you thought about it. So confident in her power over me--that I would throw away my life, my future, everything--to cover up for her lie.
Who did she think she was?
I felt a shock of guilt, or pain--that voice saying Please, I don't want to hurt her--but somehow it lost out to other dreams and urges.
I made a decision.
”Dr. Casey, you are appearing as an expert witness, is that correct?”
”Yes.”
”And this jury is trusting your opinion because of your credentials, right?”
Suddenly she seemed wary.
”Yes.”
She looked at me hard, searching.
”You are a neurosurgery resident in the top program in the country. Isn't that right?”
”Yes,” she said softly.
”Getting this position, it shows you had top grades in medical school, correct?”
”Yes.”
”And all of this--your grades, your position in a top residency--all of this is the basis for your expertise here today, isn't it?”
”Yes,” she whispered, looking at me desperately, trying not to reveal anything, begging me with her eyes.
”And that's not all. Your honesty. Isn't that part of your expertise here today? The jury can trust what you say because you are an honest person?”
”Yes,” she said, her eyes starting to well up, perceptible only to me, standing so close.
I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.
Daphne was swept up in my new rhythm. She looked curious, excited. I found my own righteous anger and turned back to the witness.
No going back.
”Dr. Casey, isn't it true that your application to this program contained serious misrepresentations about your abilities and accomplishments in medical school?”
John and Nigel erupted.
They had no idea where I was going, but they let out a string of objections.
”Yes or no?” I pressed.
Sarah froze, stunned.
”Yes or no, Dr. Casey? Why are you hesitating?”
She shook her head no.
”Dr. Casey,” I said, the word doctor now sounding absolutely p.o.r.nographic, ”did you or did you not allow your father to cover up numerous failed cla.s.ses during your medical school education?”
”I don't have to put up with . . . this isn't real.”
Her lips were trembling.
”Yes or no, Dr. Casey?”
No answer.
”YES OR NO?”.
Her face started to break.
”Did you or did you not get this prestigious residency as a result of lies and cover-ups?”
”Yes,” she said softly, her voice cracking.
”Did you allow this cover-up to occur?”
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