Rue Callahan arrived at Meridian General at nine in the morning with a recorder, a notepad, and the specific energy of a journalist who had been waiting for this conversation since the pavement outside the prosecution building.
She shook my hand in the lobby.
She looked at my white coat.
"Dr. Voss," she said.
"Rue," I said. "Come upstairs."
Adisa had prepped me for three hours the previous evening, as Zevran had predicted. She had covered: what I could say, what I should not say, how to redirect questions that went personal without appearing to redirect, and the specific legal parameters around what was now active prosecution testimony versus what was already public record.
At the end of the three hours she had said: "You're ready."
I had said: "I've been ready since the beginning."
