Hosts Steve Hohman and Olivia Espinosa are joined by personal injury attorney Susie Injijian, as well as actor and writer Sara Taylor.

Watch as Susie cross-examines Sara, portraying a sympathetic kindergarten teacher whose vehicle struck a Guatemalan-born pedestrian.

Listen in as Susie challenges Sara, and we break down how to confront bias in the courtroom.

What’s covered in this episode:

1. Talking ‘money grab’ and other biases in voir dire
2. Who to call to the stand when the damages aren’t visible
3. How to keep a crying witness from derailing your cross
4. The tech savvy way to make sure your word choice sticks
5. What you need to know to blow your witness’ testimony out of the water

Time Stamps

00:00 What’s Cross Lab?

4:38 The importance of being in a plaintiff friendly county—and how to figure that out

8:13 Broaching the “b-word” in voir dire

16:35 What to do when your client’s damages aren't visible

24:15 Mock Case Overview: Lopez vs Maddison

30:29 Susie’s Cross: Crossing an “angelic” defendant

49:02 How to handle (and stay in control of) when the water works start

1:19:52 The key touchstones that will help you flip your witness

1:27:18 Top takeaways if you had to cross a witness like this

To get free resources for your next trial go to TrialHaus.com

Key Insights:

How to Cross-Examine a Sympathetic Defendant Without Alienating the Jury

When the opposing party is likable — a kindergarten teacher, a young parent, a community volunteer — the instinct to soften your cross can cost your client the case. But attacking them head-on will cost you the jury. The answer is neither soft nor aggressive. It's factual.

In this episode, award-winning trial attorney Susie Injijian demonstrates how a calm, fact-based, step-by-step approach disarms a sympathetic defendant more effectively than confrontation ever could. By respecting the witness's humanity while methodically walking through undeniable facts, she removes the jury's impulse to protect the defendant — because there's nothing to protect her from. As guest witness Sara Taylor noted from the stand: "There wasn't really anything you were giving me that I felt like I had the right to fight you on."

The key: set an intention for how you want the jury to feel when you sit down. Not angry at the defendant. Not sorry for her. Just clear on what happened and what it cost your client.

Why Confirming the Defendant's Own Story Builds Trust — and Gets Better Admissions

Most attorneys avoid validating anything the defense has put forward. Injijian does the opposite. When she confirmed that the sun was in the defendant's eyes — a fact that could arguably help the defense — it had a surprising effect: the witness relaxed and became more cooperative.

Sara Taylor, playing the defendant, explained it this way: "She sees me. She's not trying to accuse me of using my phone. For you to confirm my story was actually really successful in getting me on your side." That comfort led to a witness who stopped guarding her answers and simply agreed with everything that followed — including the most damaging admissions.

This is the principle behind what Trial Haus calls a "Yes, And" cross: rather than fighting the witness's version of events, you build on it. You own their story, and in doing so, you control where it goes.

Using Sensory Details and Word Choice to Paint a Picture the Jury Can't Forget

Injijian didn't ask the defendant to summarize the accident. She reconstructed it sensation by sensation: the thud at the front of the car, the body becoming airborne, the impact against the windshield, the body flung to the ground. Then the tire rolling over something hard — "like you'd hit a rock or something." And then the reveal: that was the plaintiff's dog.

Every word was chosen to put the jury in the driver's seat. The witness couldn't deny any of it, and she didn't try. As Sara Taylor put it from an actor's perspective: "There was no way for me as the witness to not relive exactly what happened. It was completely laid out for me in every sense."

The lesson for attorneys: don't summarize. Reconstruct. One fact per question. One sensation at a time. Let the jury see it, hear it, and feel it through the defendant's own confirmation.

How a Dog Can Humanize Your Plaintiff and Cut Through Jury Bias

In a case where the plaintiff is an immigrant carpenter and the defendant is a beloved local kindergarten teacher, racial and socioeconomic bias can quietly tilt the jury. Injijian's strategy to level the playing field was unexpected: she focused on the plaintiff's dog.

By establishing that Mr. Lopez was cradling his injured, bleeding dog Tonki in his arms after the collision — and that this was why he waved off the ambulance and said "I'm okay" — she gave the jury a universal point of connection. As Injijian explained: "People understand the love of a dog. That puts us all on the same level. We see past ethnicity and demographics when we see a person holding his bleeding dog."

The dog detail also served a strategic purpose: it explained away a fact the defense would have used against the plaintiff — that he refused medical treatment at the scene. He wasn't minimizing his injuries. He was thinking about his dog first. Attorneys often hesitate to bring up details that aren't directly tied to damages, but the right humanizing detail can reshape how a jury sees everything else.

How to Keep a Crying Witness from Derailing Your Cross-Examination

A witness who breaks down in tears can shift the jury's sympathy instantly — and away from your client. The instinct is to either press harder (which makes you the villain) or back off entirely (which gives the witness control). Injijian found a third path: she maintained a consistent, factual pace that kept the witness just uncomfortable enough to stay engaged, but never attacked enough to justify tears.

Sara Taylor, who played the defendant and came close to crying several times, explained the dynamic from the witness chair: "I was way more comfortable than I was expecting to be. The way that you spoke to me was so kind that I was like, okay, I just have to listen and answer the questions and I can get through this." That calm pacing denied her the emotional trigger that would have allowed tears to take over.

Injijian's backup plan, had the witness started crying: jump to a different chapter of the cross entirely. Move away from the emotional moment — maybe pivot to a factual question about the father or the timeline — then circle back once the witness has regrouped. The goal isn't to prevent emotion. It's to prevent emotion from becoming the story.

The Power of What the Pastor Didn't Do — Exposing Character Through Inaction

One of the most devastating moments in the cross came not from what the defendant did, but from what her father — a well-known local pastor — didn't do. When he arrived at the scene, he spoke with police officers for an extended period. He never approached the injured Mr. Lopez. He never asked if the man his daughter had just hit with a car was okay. Then the family left together.

Injijian never accused the pastor of anything. She simply established the facts: he came, he talked to police, he didn't check on the injured man, they left. The jury draws its own conclusion. And in a case where the defendant's identity as the daughter of a prominent Christian leader could generate sympathy, that silent contrast — "love thy neighbor" values versus the reality of what happened — is more powerful than any argument an attorney could make.

From an acting and storytelling perspective, this is a classic example of showing rather than telling. The attorney doesn't need to editorialize. The facts, laid out in sequence, do the work.