“The grand jury room is closed to the public, but your father’s defense attorney will receive a copy of this statement the moment it is filed.

There is a very real chance Arthur will be waiting in the corridor outside the doors when you are called to testify.”

I stared at the black ink drying on the white page.

“Let him wait.”

By two o’clock on Monday afternoon, the cold autumn wind was rattling the double glass doors of the administration building at St.

Anne’s Medical Center.

I walked past the main lobby where the blue plastic chairs were lined up in neat, silent rows, and took the stairs to the human resources office.