On the day of the trial, my parents sat in the public gallery. Mom held my photograph, wiping the frame over and over. When the prosecutor played the drop tower footage, she closed her eyes. She could still hear the wind.
On the screen, I pounded on the restraint and struggled to point at my throat.
Molly watched the monitor. "Look at her face. She's good."
Gavin and Wesley discussed showing the video at the wedding. Dylan told the operator to keep the ride where it was. "A few more minutes. She can't keep this act up forever."
After it came down, a staff member suggested medical attention. Dylan waved him off. They carried me to the bench. All four walked away without looking back.
Mom broke down. "She was so scared of not being able to breathe..."
Dad bowed his head and pressed bot
