“Your brother, who is an adult, became ill and you were required to tend to him? What was the nature of his illness?”
“He had a seizure. I had to stay with him until it passed.”
Pierre wrinkled his forehead.“A seizure?”
“Yes,” Grace said. “He has a . . .” Grace tapped herfingers on the table to help her thoughts. “He has a medical condition. Seizures are common for him, but when they come, he needs help. So I stayed with him.”
“Surely, there will be a record of you calling for medical assistance? An ambulance or the resort nurse?”
“No. I know how to manage Marshall’s seizures,” Grace said. “He’s had them for many years, ever since . . . the accident.”
“Where did this seizure take place?”
“In my cottage.”
“What time?”
“I’m not sure. I was getting ready. So, about six, I guess.”
“Guessing does not help me, Ms. Sebold.”
Grace took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. “I would say it was just before six o’clock. I was just out of the shower, putting on makeup and drying my hair, when I heard him start to seizure in the other room.”
“Does your twenty-five-year-old brother often spend time with you while you’re dressing to meet your boyfriend? Your room seems like an odd place for your brother to be while you were showering.”
“Marshall has a condition that makes him . . . He spends a lot of time with me, yes. It makes him comfortable.”
The scribbler took furious notes. When he was finished, he nodded at Pierre, who then continued his questions.
“Your brother had a seizure. What happened next?”
“His seizures last only a few minutes, but it takes a while for him to recover afterward. Maybe thirty or forty minutes. It took some time to clean him up and get him back to his room and into bed.”
“Clean him up?”
“He had vomited,” Grace said, the first strain of annoyance coming to her voice. “And urinated on himself. I got him new clothes and waited while he took a shower.”
“How long did the process take?”
“An hour, maybe. It was probably seven o’clock by the time I got him back to my parents’ cottage.”
“Your vagueness is not at all useful, Ms. Sebold.”
“I’m not trying to be vague. I didn’t record the time, sir. I’m telling you what I remember, the best that I remember it.”
“You had plans to meet Mr. Crist, though. You must have had a sense of the time since you were now running late.”
“Yes, a sense. I just can’t tell you the exact time.”
“Your brother is now in bed and with your parents. According to you, it is seven in the evening. Did you stay with him?”
“No. I mean, for a while, yes. To make sure he was okay. My parents took over from there. Then I went to meet Julian, but by the time I got out to the beach, it was getting dark. I knew the hike up to the bluff would take too long, and I was scared to try it in the dark. So I waited on the beach.”
“For Mr. Crist?”
“Yes.”
“And when Mr. Crist did not appear on the beach, as I’m sure he did not, you surely attempted to contact him, no? Call him or text-message him?”
