Previously in "2nd Time Around":

In 1996, Sarah Griffin walked in on her neighbor, who had murdered his family. in 1998, she was convicted and sentenced to death for these killings.


2006:

"She looks so weak," Ruth said, still trying to process it all.

Thanks to some pressure from Doug, the Department of Corrections allowed Sarah's family to see her in her hospital room via the window in the corridor. Corrections officers stood guard all around the area, one of them stationed in a chair inside the room. They all watched the visitors closely, particularly wary of Doug and Amelia, who towered over the others and most of the corrections and hospital personnel. Doug took it upon himself to describe the scene to Jerry while Nemo took the opportunity to take a nap.

Sarah was still unconscious. She had been moved to the room just a little while ago, about twelve hours after her arrival. She was hooked up to a heart rate monitor, a respirator, and many pieces of medical equipment which the group didn't recognize. Though the window blocked out most of the sounds inside the room, the group could hear the faint beeping of the heart rate monitor. No one could miss the light reflecting off the metal handcuffs securing one of Sarah's wrists to the bed's rail.

The family had relocated to a hotel two blocks from the hospital. Except for Amelia's and Michael's children and Nemo, no one slept. They only stored their things and, leaving Michael to once again watch the kids, headed right back to the hospital. He joined them later with the little boy and baby girl in tow.

The doctors determined the electrocution had caused damage to Sarah's heart. This wasn't surprising as the point of an execution in the electric chair was to stimulate the inmate's heart to race, thus inducing cardiac arrest. Sarah was receiving Natrecor, a medication meant to ease the stress on her cardiac muscles, via one of her intravenous lines, though she would need to continue taking something similar orally once she was awake.

The news only got worse from there. The electrical surge had damaged Sarah's spinal cord, causing partial paralysis. Though they already had a good idea as to the extent of the damage, the doctors couldn't be sure about it until Sarah was brought out of the coma.

Sarah's kidneys and liver were also impacted. Even though the organs hadn't been destroyed and she was receiving medication to help sustain their functionality, the doctors predicted transplants would be necessary someday. Thankfully, none of Sarah's other internal organs sustained such serious damage.

"Can I see her?" Amelia's and Michael's five-year-old son, David, asked, being too short to look through the window.

The adults held a brief and hushed debate about the matter before Michael obliged and lifted the boy to see his aunt. David's eyes widened at the sight.

"Is she hurt really badly?" he asked.

"Yes, she is," Amelia admitted. "But the doctors are taking good care of her."

Michael set David down again. the boy looked up at his mother.

"How'd she get hurt?" he queried.

"It's hard to explain," Amelia said. "We can talk about it later."

Doug could read Amelia's nervous facial expression. She was hoping and praying the boy's absent-minded five-year-old brain would forget all about wanting to know the explanation soon enough. She would have to explain it all someday, but Doug understood she and her husband preferred to put that conversation off for as long as possible.

"How are you doing?" the big man asked in a soft voice, moving over to stand next to Jerry.

"I don't know," the young man admitted, wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve. "It's ... it doesn't seem real. I mean, how many people would understand what we're looking at right now. Who would get what they did to her?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Meanwhile, Nemo was no longer sleeping. He had taken an interest in Amelia's and Michael's one-year-old daughter, Rose. The baby girl was in a carrier which Amelia had set down by her feet in the hospital corridor. Curious, Nemo stretched his neck out to sniff the girl's feet, which were covered by tiny, orange socks. Delighted by this brief contact, Rose giggled wildly. Looking down, Amelia also giggled. It was a rather funny sight.

Glancing over, Doug thought about alerting Jerry to what was happening. Nemo, like Jerry's previous guide dog, a German Shepard named Granite, wasn't supposed to be doing this sort of meet-and-greet. Doug recalled how many friendly looks he'd gotten from the Retriever over the years. Nemo was, as Jerry put it, just eager for someone to pet him so they'd be the one breaking the cardinal rule of not petting an on-duty guide dog. Such an action could distract the dog from their work and cause harm to the blind handler.

Watching the scene, Doug decided to keep his mouth shut. Nemo wasn't doing more than sniffing the baby's feet. Heck, he wasn't even moving off anywhere. It was the sort of whimsical scenario needed in this grim time. It pulled people away from the looming question ... what would happen next? Doug wasn't even close to an answer, but he'd have to figure it out soon.

* * *

"You understand the rules?" a corrections officer asked.

Doug nodded, allowing himself to be patted down and searched. Leaving his briefcase by the door, he entered the hospital room. Though he tried to get all of Sarah's family and Jerry admitted, the Department of Corrections balked. The compromise was they could see Sarah from the corridor. Doug, being her attorney, could go in, though, for the time being, he could not expect attorney/client privilege. For one thing, his client was still unconscious, so there would not be an opportunity for a privileged conversation. Doug waited until the others left before taking advantage of these terms.

Despite their security concerns, the officers were being respectful. They understood Sarah, who had never committed a serious infraction behind bars, was no danger to anyone while comatose. Plus, they were far within the hospital's inner sanctum, many layers of brick, wood, and plaster between them and the outside world now latching onto the case. Then, there was the fact Doug, like the officers, was a lawman, albeit retired. They all pegged him, though some knew his name from mutual friends in the Richmond and State Police. While their behavior never indicated a willingness to look the other way while on this detail, they didn't treat Doug with the scorn received by so many attorneys visiting their incarcerated clients.

Sarah had now been hospitalized for a week. Needing to get back to Arlington, Baltimore, Mount Sinai, and Philadelphia, her family and Jerry returned home. George and Ruth still often returned, but they couldn't stay around the clock. Since he lived in Richmond, Doug promised to check in whenever he could and would call with any updates.

Pulling a chair over, He sat down next to the bed. He was forbidden to touch Sarah and an officer was in the room, watching him. He placed his hands on his knees and looked at her through his sunglasses.

Sarah was still unconscious, though the doctors found she could breathe on her own. They removed the respirator, leaving only a tube in her nose which delivered oxygen. Her wrist was still cuffed to the bed's rail and she was dressed in a standard hospital gown and covered by a blanket. Her hair was already growing back in places, showing up in little red fuzzy patches, while thick bandages covered her eyes. By now, the burns had mostly healed, though Some dark spots were visible where bandages had already been removed. The low rasp of her breathing was accompanied by the steady beeps from the heart rate monitor.

"Hey," Doug said. "I hope you can hear this, though I'm not sure you want to hear it. I've managed to pry the incident report out of the iron fists of the Virginia Department of Corrections. They did not want to let that go, but the attorney of the inmate who is the subject of the incident has some pull with the courts, even in Virginia."

He paused, taking in the rasps and beeps. It was all so eerie for him. For one thing, he was never much of a conversationalist, so this one-sided chat wasn't for him. And this setting made things worse.

"It was a faulty circuit board, Doug explained. "It was supposed to regulate the flow of electricity. When they turned on the juice, it was fried first and you got a shock, but not one strong enough to do the job."

While the execution procedure was once one long, continuous surge of electricity meant to go on until the inmate was dead, it wasn't so anymore. Virginia employed three cycles. Cycle One, consisting of 2,400 volts for fifteen seconds, was meant to first render the condemned unconscious and then go on to causing their death. The second and third cycles, each consisting of 1,800 volts for another fifteen seconds, were run to ensure death. According to the report, Sarah received 1,500 volts of electricity.

"They killed it after fifteen seconds as always," Doug continued, again wondering why Sarah chose to go out like this. "But the whole circuitry was so charred, they couldn't have run it again if they tried. They've already got electricians replacing everything but the chair itself."

Virginia officials were pushing to put this behind them and continue the business of executions. Doug had no intention of making it so easy for them. In fact, the idea of letting that happen made him sick. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the taste of bile in the back of his throat.

"The doctors say you're lucky to be alive," he continued. "Of course, the press is all over this. The streets outside are lined with news vans and all the local hotels are filled with reporters, their cameramen and producers, print journalists, and those blogger people ... then there are the protesters ... both for and against. It's nuts out there."

Doug shook his head. Setting aside their current whereabouts, this topic wasn't easing his tension any bit either. He just wanted to be done with it.

"I'm already working on a claim for a lawsuit," he said. "Nothing's official yet, but negligence will be a part of it. I'll also try for battery. On top of that, there are already hints going around that the state will want to try to execute you again once you're declared healthy enough for that. Believe me ... I'm gonna fight it with every fiber of my being. You shouldn't have gone to the chair in the first place and I'm sorry I ever let it happen. It will not happen again ... I promise you."

There he was, making promises again. He might never learn his lesson. Still, the state couldn't really think of killing Sarah now. What court would allow that in this day and age?

Doug noticed Sarah's uncuffed hand lying motionless on top of the blanket. Acting on instinct, he reached out to take it. He stopped at the warning cough from the nearby officer. Giving a flat apology, he rested his broad hand on his knee again.

"You come back, you hear," he encouraged. "I'm no good at talking to you like this. And ... I need you here. I want your strength to drive me forward. I've only known you for a couple of years, but I know you're too strong to give up now. So, you come back just as quickly as possible, all right?"

* * *

Sarah stayed in the hospital for eight days before the doctors decided to reduce the dosage of the anesthetic keeping her in the medically-induced coma. The Department of Corrections didn't waste any time and stationed more officers along the corridor and inside her hospital room. At his own insistence, Doug was also present as much as visiting hours allowed, making it a tight squeeze for everyone.

Two days later, after random twitches and mumblings, Sarah began showing signs of awareness. Not trusting the corrections officers, the doctor brought her own team of orderlies to restrain her if necessary.

Since Doug was the only one allowed to be in the room, Sarah's family made him her health care proxy. he could control what she was given, though it didn't seem to be necessary at this point. He watched as Sarah's hand twitched again. she groaned and clenched her fingers, though her fist was weak. She relaxed again and turned her head.

"H ... hello?" she asked, Her voice weak.

Doug swallowed a lump in his throat. It was the first time she'd spoken.

"Sarah?" the doctor asked.

"Ye ... yes?" Sarah replied. "W ... who's the ... there? Wh ... where a ... am I?"

"You're at the Richmond General Hospital. you were brought here for treatment."

"Wh ... What kind of tr ... treat ... treatment?"

Sarah was becoming more aware. She seemed to realize something was wrong.

"Wha ... What's happening?" she asked, sounding scared and confused. "Wh ... why can't I see?"

She tried to raise her left arm but realized she was cuffed to the bed. She raised her right hand to her face and found the bandages. An orderly stepped forward, ready to grab her arm if she began tearing at them.

"Sarah," Doug said. "listen. There was ..."

"D ... Doug?" Sarah asked and tried to find him, waving her free hand through the air. But, due to all the people in the room, he was out of reach. She became more desperate.

"What ... What's g ... going on?" she demanded. "why c ... can't I see? Why are there bandages all over my face? Doug?!"

She tried to move but realized nothing happened.

"What happened to me?!" she cried. "I can't move my legs!"

She began shaking violently and turning over in the bed as best she could. The orderlies rushed forward, cutting off the corrections officers' path as they held the struggling patient. It wasn't long before Sarah was still again, her face turned up to the ceiling. Her breathing was soft and relaxed. She looked peaceful again.

"Is she asleep?" Doug asked.

"Yes," The doctor replied. "she wore herself out. The anesthetic isn't completely out of her system yet."

"How much longer is she going to stay like that?"

"We'll keep reducing it slowly. she's got a lot of adjustments to make. Time and patience are key to any sort of success."

Doug wondered how far this hospital was willing to go to help Sarah. After all, she was condemned for four murders. If transplants ever became necessary, could they even get any? Sarah would be alive for a few more years while this mess was sorted out and, if Doug got his way, for a lot longer afterward. Someday, her kidneys, liver, and maybe her heart, would fail. Could the doctors turn their backs on her then? Doug predicted a turbulent collision between "first do no harm" and the law's assertion that Virginia officials could snuff out those they placed on the lowest rungs of society.

* * *

Over the next few days, the hospital staff continued lowering the anesthetic, being slow and methodic about it. As she became more aware of her surroundings, Sarah learned about what had happened and her prognosis.

After two weeks, she was aware enough to realize when Doug came into the room. She didn't say anything, instead staring up in his general direction. Someone had raised the end of her bed so she was sitting up, causing her blanket to fall from her shoulders and bunch up around her waist. the bandages were gone except for those covering her eyes. Her head sported what looked like a two-week-old red beard. She was still handcuffed to the rail on her left side.

"Hello," Doug said. "Mind if I sit down?"

He wanted to give her some sense of control in all this. If she wanted him to leave, he'd walk out the door without a fuss and come back another time. He knew she was being cooperative as the nurses began having her take her medication orally. He doubted she'd make him leave. Still, she ought to make this call. She deserved it.

"Go ahead," Sarah murmured.

Doug sat down and waited. He wasn't going to start this conversation, the first real one they'd have since her execution. Saying "how are you" would be the dumbest thing he could do.

"They ... they t ... took my eyes, Doug ..." Sarah said in a shaky voice.

"I know," Doug said. "They had no choice. There was too much damage."

"I ... I c ... can't m ... move my le ... legs. I ... I c ... can't feel Th ... them. Ar ... are they even sti ... still th ... there? I c ... can't re ... reach out and t ... touch them with ... without it hur ... hurting."

"They're there," Doug assured her, glancing at the two long lumps under the blanket.

"The ... They s ... said it w ... was a mi ... miracle I even s ... survived. D ... doesn't fe ... feel m ... much like a m ... miracle to me."

As he listened to her breathing becoming more choked and rapid, Doug could sense a breakdown on its way. He looked at the bandages over Sarah's face, concerned about what damage tears might do.

"Wh ... why'd th ... this h ... happen?" Sarah asked between sobs. "Wh ... why'd Th ... this h ... happen to me ... me?"

Doug did not know what to say.

"I ... I shou ... should be de ... dead," Sarah insisted. "Wh ... why cou ... couldn't the ... they d ... do it ri ... right?"

She raised her uncuffed hand and touched the bandages over her eye sockets. This made it worse. Wincing, she pulled her pillow out from behind her head and mashed it over her face, alternatively gasping and sobbing. Even her obvious discomfort didn't impede these motions.

Despite the many warnings he'd received from corrections officers, Doug reached out and clasped Sarah's hand in his. When the officer in the corner jumped up from his seat to protest, he glared at the young man.

"Back off," he snarled.

He'd taken Sarah's hand in his own many times before during their visits in the attorney/client visitation rooms at Fluvanna. No one ever stopped him then and nothing ever happened. So, he wasn't going to let now be any different. Besides, he'd searched before coming into the room, so the corrections officers would have found anything he'd be smuggling.

The young officer sat down again. Nevertheless, he watched the situation more attentively. It didn't look like he'd be reporting anything though.

"It'll be all right," Doug said to a weeping Sarah. "I'm gonna help you. It'll be all right."

Sarah's only reply was muffled sobs, gasps, and sniffles.

* * *

Doug stood in the corridor, watching through the window as Sarah, now dressed in standard orange prison clothes, was loaded onto a stretcher, her wrists cuffed and legs shackled.

This was her eighteenth day in the Richmond General Hospital. Since she was improving health-wise, she was to be transferred back to Fluvanna. The prison had its own on-site hospital where she could continue receiving the treatment she needed.

Doug thought it was ironic his condemned client was receiving all the medical care necessary to keep her alive and relatively healthy. He'd heard of cases where medical intervention was required for an inmate to make it to their execution on time. Government officials and proponents of the death penalty said this was done to not violate anyone's Constitutional rights. Denying an inmate medical care just because they were set to die anyway had been rebuked in court on several occasions.

Doug checked his watch. It was almost midnight. Due to the continuing press attention, the Department of Corrections had decided to transfer his client at night. A decoy convoy had left an hour earlier, and any lurking reporters would still be following it out to Troy while Sarah was loaded into an ambulance in the hospital's underground garage. By the time anyone figured out the ruse, she'd be on the road and easy enough to miss in the dark. Having once served on the governor's protective detail, Doug was struck by the similarities he now noticed.

Not unlike the governor, Sarah's presence had presented serious security problems. Protesters on both sides of the death penalty argument picketed outside the hospital, kept somewhat at bay by police barricades. The challenge was that sick and injured people and their loved ones still needed access to the facility. Several people took advantage of this only to discover their performances didn't get them past the emergency room and instead wasted hospital resources and aggravated doctors and their support staff. Doug sympathized, understanding it was stressful for everyone.

The reporters were just as sneaky, and many were ejected. Virginia state troopers and Richmond police officers escorted Doug and Sarah's family to and from their cars as even the underground garage wasn't off limits to anyone wanting to get in a few questions or a couple photos. For Sarah's transfer, the garage was locked down and heavily guarded, but it couldn't be kept like that around the clock.

Many officials released statements, expressing their indignation over how things had gone and promising a full investigation and evaluation as to what would happen next. Governor Joshua Leffat made a recorded plea from his office for calm, but death penalty opponents began protesting outside his mansion and the state capital, holding him personally accountable as he'd allowed the execution to proceed. Virginia Attorney General Zackary Hutchinson addressed the issue more directly, giving a live press conference outside his office in Richmond. But his statements were identical to what his office had earlier released in writing, neither version offering any solace.

Federal officials maintained a peripheral position in the situation, releasing generic statements which went pretty much unnoticed. The Department of Justice would step in to investigate if it seemed state officials weren't proceeding in a professional manner. So far, there didn't seem to be a problem.

With Sarah's consent, Doug had made a statement a couple days earlier, asking the media to respect his client and her family's privacy. He didn't elaborate on Sarah's injuries, though a lot of that had already been leaked, probably through gossiping nurses.

Doug explained he was petitioning the courts for a stay. Though it seemed redundant, it needed to be done. If the courts weren't prompted to intervene, even in such obvious circumstances, state officials might try to set another execution date as soon as possible. Doug had filed the paperwork and it was expected the Supreme Court of Virginia would grant the request without question.

Some reporters and legal experts were already talking about Francis versus Resweber. Doug had just started his research into the matter, but he already knew this would present a big problem. When asked what he would do, he declined to give a definitive answer.

"We're all still regrouping from what happened," he said. "Rest assured I am already considering the best approach for my client. We will not let this be swept away without a thorough investigation of what happened as well as an examination of all avenues available to Sarah from here on out."

A reporter asked if he planned to renew claims of his client's innocence. Doug said this was not the time for that, adding there were higher priorities. He knew, since taking on the case two years ago, he'd been the first appellate lawyer to raise the possibility that Sarah wasn't a cold-blooded killer. That issue had been dormant since her trial. Why would anyone have reason to dredge it up? Sarah's fingerprints were on the knife and the cell phone. The victims' blood was on her shoes and the corresponding bloody shoeprints were by the bodies. So far, no court had found fault in this evidence and fighting it only wasted time that no one had to spare. Virginia liked to keep the time between sentencing and execution short. All but the most compelling claims of innocence were generally ignored.

Doug first agreed to take the case when asked because he believed Sarah's version of that night's events wasn't given enough credence. If she would, one way or another, spend the rest of her life in prison, every possible scenario needed to be explored. It was two years' worth of meetings with the young woman which convinced him she was innocent. Having interrogated enough suspects, he was never able to sync Sarah's behavior up to anything displayed by those guilty men and women. She stuck to her story and, though some minor details were inconsistent due to the fluidity of human memory, the vital ones never changed. She expressed genuine remorse for killing Ben Parker and for not being able to do anything for his wife and children. She never made excuses for her actions, even when pressed on things she could have done differently that evening, like not entering the house. No, Sarah Griffin was not a perp trying to beat a murder rap ... or four, to be precise.

Whether they believed in Sarah's innocence or not, plenty of lawyers were already contacting Doug, offering their services and often throwing in some strong condemnation for what happened or about capital punishment in general. The Virginia Defenders Project, the organization who handed over the case when Sarah's previous attorney died, now wanted to be part of it again, suddenly no longer overworked. The partners at Wheeler, Lex, & Sutton again offered Doug the use of any associates, paralegals, investigators, and interns he needed. He had used them as necessary over the past two years but knew the matter now required resources beyond the criminal law firm's capabilities. Plus, he'd had enough of interns.

Almost since the execution, Doug made quiet inquiries, gathering names and doing research. He'd sometimes printed out material and reviewed it while visiting the comatose Sarah. He later shared his ideas with her, though she just deferred to his judgement rather than offering an actual opinion. Now, he was close to a short list of names he needed to learn more about to get his client the help she needed.

Doug continued watching as the corrections officers wheeled the stretcher with Sarah on it out of the room and down the corridor. He wouldn't be allowed to follow her but would be granted access to the prison hospital later in the morning. There wouldn't be time to sleep, though he wasn't tired. As the officers rounded a corner, Sarah's doctor came over to him.

"I just want you to know, I know who she is and what she's done," she said. "But I don't believe in capital punishment and I certainly don't approve of what they did to her."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Doug said, giving her a slight smile. "that's very kind of you."

"Good luck to you," The doctor said. "And good luck to her ..."

2008:

Doug looked up and down the long conference table where Donna, Grace, Richard, Matthew, and Andrew were seated. The term "motley crew" came to mind, but he was grateful they were all here for Sarah. They were as determined as him. He remained standing and adjusted his sunglasses.

"All right," he said. "We've got a lot of work to do. Let's get started ..."