my brother, and refused to believe he could’ve killed Tyler, I ended up losing all my friends too.
KT: That must’ve been difficult.
OH [quietly]: Yeah. It was tough. I don’t like to talk about it much – except to my therapist – because so many people have had it so much worse. Tyler’s family lost him, and my brother is in jail for something he didn’t do, so falling out with your high school friends and breaking up with your boyfriend kind of pales in comparison, but it was definitely a hard time. For a lot of reasons.
KT: And what about media attention? Did the case generate much?
OH: It did, yeah, although it was mostly local, and a few state-wide news stories. But it was enough. More than enough. Tyler was the mayor’s son, so within Twin Rivers at least, he and his family were pretty high profile, which impacted the media coverage, as well as the … attitude and atmosphere. Towards Ethan. And us. His family.
KT: In a case like this, with quite a lot of media coverage – some would say biased media coverage – as well as the inherent bias within the city against the defendant, I would expect the court to decide to bring in jurors from outside. Did they do that at all?
OH: I think at one point they were going to, but in the end, they decided not to.
KT: Do you know why?
OH: I honestly couldn’t tell you. Knowing what I know now, I think it was a pretty extraordinary decision.
KT: And you’ve never wavered in your belief in your twin?
OH: Never. He’s innocent, I know it.
KT: If he is innocent, then that means whoever did kill Tyler Washington is still out in the open, living their life, possibly still in Twin Rivers, while your brother sits behind bars. Do you ever think about that, about who did actually kill Tyler?
OH: I think about it all the time. I go to bed thinking about it, I wake up thinking about it, I have nightmares about it. But, and this is going to sound so incredibly selfish: My main concern is with getting Ethan out of prison. Getting him a retrial, having him exonerated, clearing his name. I can’t tell you who killed him, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that Ethan Hall did not kill Tyler Washington.
Ethan’s lawyer is done questioning Kevin, and the judge asks the prosecutor if he’d like to cross-examine the witness.
Unsurprisingly, he does and as he stands up from his chair, buttoning up his suit jacket as he does so, he says to Kevin, “What exactly is your relationship to the defendant, Mr Lawrence?”
“We’re friends?” Kevin says, giving the prosecutor a quizzical look.
“You don’t sound completely sure of your answer, Mr Lawrence.”
“No, I mean we are friends. I just … we’re not related or anything.”
“No, but you have known one another for quite some time have you not?”
“Since kindergarten, yeah.”
“And would you describe yourself as Mr Hall’s best friend?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“You suppose?”
“I’ve never really thought about it, if I’m honest,” Kevin says shrugging, “I guess he’s my best friend. He’s kind of my only friend.”
“And vice versa?”
“Yeah.”
“And as established in your conversation with my esteemed colleague just now, you were with him on the night of the incident in question, August 23 and the early morning of August 24?”
“Yeah, he was at my place.”
“Your parents’ house?”
“Yeah, sorry, my parents’ house.”
“And what were you doing there?”
Kevin shrugs again, his signature move. If Kevin has ever been bothered by anything in his life, he has never let anyone know it. The phrase ‘water off a duck’s back’ was invented for him. I once overheard our moms talking about how little both their sons had cried growing up, and whereas Mom had worried constantly about Ethan’s lack of lungpower, Kevin’s mom had said he didn’t seem to ever cry because he was too busy laughing. At the time, this had sounded a little creepy to me, but now watching him on the witness stand I can easily see how his good-natured languorousness could put you at ease. “We weren’t really doing anything,” he says, “we were just chilling, you know? Hanging out?”
“And was it just the two of you?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you didn’t attend Jessica Heng’s party that night at all?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Well, we weren’t invited.”
There’s a ripple of movement, a shifting reaction from the other side of the courtroom when he says this. Jessica Heng and her friends bristling at this mild accusation, despite the fact that Kevin doesn’t look or sound bothered by it at all. I’ve spent my life carving a space for myself at the very center of things, but Ethan’s never been bothered by any of it, and Kevin even less so. His tone is even, indifferent, and he leans back in his chair, looking more relaxed than anyone else who has taken the stand up to this point. I look over at the jury to try and gauge their reaction to Kevin, but their faces are a wash of boredom. They have already been here so long.
“Now, Mr Lawrence, as we’ve just heard from your testimony, you claim Mr Hall left your parents’ house at between two fifteen and two thirty in the morning, but in your initial statement to the police you told them Mr Hall had left your house by two a.m.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t completely sure. I said it was around two, two thirty.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying you can’t be sure?”
“I think it was just before two thirty, but I know I said it was more like two a.m. at first, so I’m just saying I can’t be one hundred percent sure.”
“If you weren’t sure then, and you aren’t sure now about what time Mr Hall left, where did the two or two thirty am time frame come from?”
“I figure he was gone by two thirty because I know I went online for a while, and when I logged off it was about three a.m.”
“And how long do you think you were online for, before you logged off?”
“It was like twenty to thirty mins max, which is why I think maybe Ethan left a little later, more like two thirty.”
“What was it exactly you were doing? Online, I mean.”
“I was just on AIM.”
“And by AIM you mean AOL instant messenger?”
“Yes.”
“So, you were messaging with someone?”
“Yeah,” Kevin says, and for the first time he looks a little unsure of himself, a little worried.
“Who was it you were messaging with?”
“Just a friend,” Kevin says, shuffling in his seat, shifting his eyes suddenly to the jury bench and back again.
“A friend? I thought you said you didn’t have many