Mr. Apodaca, attorney for a middle-aged father, coaches thirteen-year-old Angelle on her responses to his questioning. He tells her that there are two kinds of lies - bad lies and good lies (little white lies that sometimes are better than the truth). Everyone has a different version of the story, he says, and white lies will be very important when she recounts her experience. She takes it in, resenting him for talking down to her as if she were her little sister's age.

Earlier that day, her father meets his maybe-girlfriend Marcy for lunch by the marina. The view and their uncomplicated small talk calms him, relieving him of the stress of work and his absent wife. He is a few glasses in, but they order another wine bottle, and some cognac to cap off the meal. He suddenly remembers it is his turn to pick his two children up from soccer practice. He edges himself rigidly onto the road, makes a terrible merge, and takes an extended route to avoid a cop.

Angelle is used to waiting as her father is often late from work, but this time he is later than usual. She can tell from his expression that something is wrong. He turns to her pleadingly, confesses to the wine and asks her to drive for him. While he is trying to smooth things over with the promise of pizza, Angelle hits a biker.

In the courtroom, Mr. Apodaca drills Angelle relentlessly. He asks for a moment alone with her and reminds her roughly what's at stake— not only another DUI for her father but a charge of child endangerment, which will sever the family forever. In the bathroom, her father takes a swig of scotch to calm his nerves. When Angelle is called to the stand, the world swims before her as if in a dream, and Mr. Apodaca's voice cuts in harsh and loud. When they arrive at the most important question, the one Angelle dreaded (Who was driving?), Angelle looks directly at her father and says. "I was."