EXCERPT :

My moment alone in this scrupulously examined space is short-lived, and it is no mystery to passersby why I continually pivot my sightline from the forty-seventh floor to the concrete below my feet and then back again. A few mumble unneeded confirmation of my location and join me in a momentary mental reenactment of the fateful fall, the details of which require no imagination. The fall itself was captured by several I-phones and shared with the world within seconds of death. And as it would turn out, this collection of horrific video footage would lend the necessary emotion to sway a jury of twelve to issue the ultimate sentence to the man accused of tossing Virginia Crowley over the rail of her penthouse suite.