Erin Patterson raised her chin almost defiantly, giving a sense this was all a grave mistake, that she was not supposed to be there. For lengthy periods during her sentencing she even closed her eyes, a woman seemingly at peace with her fate.
But her hands betrayed her: clasped tightly in her lap, though moving frequently, the thumbs rotating around each other or the fingers on her left hand opening and closing regularly as if to mimic her heartbeat.
