Mikayla looks toward the jury and back at me. “Emily was fine when we first arrived. Her normal self. We talked with some friends, and she had a glass of wine. She was laughing, just like everyone else.”
“What kind of change did you notice in her behavior?”
Mikayla’s brow draws together, as if replaying the moment in her mind. “After a while… she seemed different. Way more than tipsy. She was slurring words and unsteady on her feet after only that one drink. At one point she needed help to get from one place to another.”
There’s a brief pause, long enough for the jury to absorb it.
“Did you see Ms. Westbrook have anything else to drink that night?”
“No,” Mikayla says. “She had only one glass of wine. That’s all Emily ever has. More than that gives her a headache the next day.”
I give her an assuring nod. “Thank you, Ms. Carter. No further questions.”
I step back to my seat.
Jon David rises with unhurried grace, one hand adjusting his jacket button.
“Ms. Carter, you mentioned having a drink yourself that night?”
“Yes.”
His smile is faint. “Only one?”
She hesitates. “Two, maybe three.”
“Two, maybe three.” He lets the words linger a moment. “Wine?”
“Yes.”
“The same wine as Ms. Westbrook?”
“Yes.”
He nods as if that confirms something only he can see. “And a lot of people attended the party?”
“Yes.”
“People coming and going, glasses moving around?”
“I guess.”
He pauses, gazing at her for a beat. “Would it be fair to say it wasn’t easy to keep track of every detail?”
Mikayla shifts in her seat. “I was watching her.”
“But not her glass, correct?”
“No, not the whole time.”
“So it’s possible that someone else could’ve handed her another drink? Or she could’ve picked one up without you noticing?”
“I don’t think she did.”
“But you can’t say for certain. Yes or no?”
Mikayla hesitates. “No.”
Jon David offers a sympathetic nod. “And you mentioned she seemedoff. Do you remember the exact moment that started?”
