The defense attorney blocks my line of sight to Grayson before I’m tempted to look.
“How are you today?” he asks.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.” After a brief rundown of my credentials, he asks, “Can you tell us how long you evaluated Mr. Sullivan?”
The lawyer is youthful and attractive. I notice the way the jury leans forward, attentive to him. His fresh face and amusing mannerisms are a welcome distraction to the heaviness of this trial.
“Just under three months,” I reply.
“Is that a sufficient amount of time to accurately diagnose a patient?”
“Yes,” I say. “Typically, I’m able to provide a comprehensive diagnosis and treatment plan within a two-week period.”
“Then why did Mr. Sullivan require a longer evaluation period?”
I straighten my back. “Midway through my initial evaluation, I observed signs of severe delusion that required closer assessment.”
I’m going off script. Mr. Young stares at me curiously, then walks to the defense table and finds the folder that contains Grayson’s evaluation.
“What is Mr. Sullivan’s official diagnosis?” he asks.
“Mr. Sullivan exhibits antisocial personality disorder,” I say. “He scored at the extreme high end of the spectrum, classifying him as a dangerous personality. He suffers from sadistic symphorophilia, which means he derives sexual gratification from staging and observing brutal disasters. As a sadist, Mr. Sullivan gleans pleasure from the suffering of others. Combined with his psychopathy, this makes him extremely skilled in manipulation.”
The attorney blinks, glances at the prosecution, as if he’s expecting an objection. But there will be no objection from that side of the courtroom during my testimony.
Mr. Young starts again, trying to find a thread of our original correspondence. “Dr. Noble, did you not state that Mr. Sullivan has been a model inmate? That despite his disorder, he poses no threat within a prison environment because it lacks the chaos necessary to feed his particular psychopathy?”
I let an easy smile frame my lips. Young has a good memory, recalling the details of my conversation with the Attorney General that I relayed to him.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I answer honestly. “I did say this to the prosecution, but that was in the middle of my final evaluation. As I’ve stated, Mr. Sullivan is an expert manipulator, therefore additional time was required to accurately diagnose him and determine the level of danger he presents.”
The lawyer flips through the evaluation I revised just last night. He was so confident in my verbal assessment that he never requested the report prior to the trial.
“The treatment plan you originally felt was best tailored for Mr. Sullivan involved medication under your supervision, continued therapy sessions, and gradual integration into the general population, where he could become a productive member of the correctional community.” His gaze hardens into a glare, a threat banked in his eyes. “Do you still feel that Mr. Sullivan can benefit from this treatment?”
“Let me put it as plainly as possible,” I say, bolstering myself. “Mr. Sullivan targeted victims he believed were guilty of crimes—crimes he felt deserved extreme and disturbing vigilante justice. Does integrating him into a population full of criminals sound like a good idea to you, Mr. Young?”
The shock on the lawyer’s face is only upstaged by the collective ripple of agreement that rolls through the courtroom.
“Order,” the judge demands.
Finally, I dare a glance at Grayson, and our eyes collide. There’s no malice there, no resentment, only the hint of a smirk as those beautiful, knowing eyes sear into me.
I roll my shoulders as my lower back locks up. “Furthermore, I’ve identified that Mr. Sullivan suffers from a unique delusional disorder linked to his psychopathy. He harbors grandiose delusions regarding his connections with his victims, fixating on them to the extent where he constructs elaborate alternate realities. The manipulation tactics he employs on his victims reinforces his own delusions, further distorting his beliefs. This cycle enables him to punish, maim, and kill without guilt or remorse.” I pause, taking a breath before I push through. Ihaveto push through. “Anyone who comesinto contact with Grayson Sullivan is at risk to become a part of his delusional construct, suffering severe mental or physical harm. He is among the most dangerous individuals I’ve encountered, and I no longer feel capable of continuing his treatment. In my professional opinion, rehabilitation is not a viable prospect for Mr. Sullivan.”
A heavy silence falls over the courtroom. Mr. Young clears his throat. “Thank you, Dr. Noble. Nothing further, Your Honor.”
After a charged moment, the judge looks to the Attorney General. “Would you like to cross-examine the witness, Mr. Shafer?”
The lawyer stands briefly. “No, Your Honor. The prosecution rests.”
“Please escort Dr. Noble from the stand,” the judge instructs the bailiff. “Court is adjourned for a one-hour recess, after which we’ll hear closing arguments.”
I flinch as commotion rises around the courtroom, everyone standing to escape.
It’s over.
