REDWOOD CITY She wants to reach out to Laci Peterson's mother, to tell her she's all too familiar with the stinging grief that comes with losing a child to a violent death.
She longs to tell Laci's mother, Sharon Rocha, never to stop searching for peace, to assure her that healing can come despite emotional scars.
And, Mary Mylett formerly known to the world as Juror No. 10 wants Rocha to know that for more than six months during Scott Peterson's trial, she watched her carefully from the jury box.
When it came time to declare the killer worthy of death, Mylett still grieving 18 years after the death of her baby summoned courage because Rocha seemed to embody courage.
"Tell her for me," Mylett said Friday in her only interview since casting a vote Monday for Peterson's execution.
"Tell her that every day she walked in the courtroom, I tried to keep a stiff upper lip because, despite what I went through, her strength gave me strength."
In the spring, 47-year-old Mylett figured she would be the last person chosen to sit in judgment of a man accused of murdering his pregnant wife and their unborn son at Christmastime 2002.
During jury selection, she mentioned a "family tragedy" in open court and was ushered quickly behind closed doors for a meeting with the judge and attorneys.
She bared her soul.
Those in the judge's chamber have kept her secret since, but what she said apparently struck a chord with both sides and she wasn't dismissed.
"Everyone said I should have lied to get off," Mylett said. "I thought the truth would set me free. It didn't."
The truth: 18 years ago, Mylett's 22-month-old son, Sean, walked in front of her Dodge van. She never saw him.
"Accident," the San Mateo County-issued death certificate reads. "Residence driveway. Run over by family vehicle."
The huge parish church in San Francisco where Mylett and her husband met as children was packed to the rafters for the boy's memorial service. "A line went out the door and up the block," she said, and a local newspaper wrote about the tragedy.
She identified with the Rochas
With that kind of exposure, she's puzzled that nobody outed her as a woman blamed in the death of her son sitting in judgment of a man who killed his.
Perhaps more perplexing is why attorneys on both sides and their high-priced consultants wanted her on the jury.
"It would give me great, great pause to leave somebody like that on the jury in a case like this," said Sarah Murray of Trial Behavior Consulting in San Francisco. "But it's very hard to secondguess (experts)."
Maybe they judged that Mylett had "processed, resolved and feels at peace with what happened," Murray said, "even though it was a horrible thing."
Perhaps prosecutors sensed she would have uncommon sympathy with survivors of victims. Maybe defense lawyers hoped Mylett would identify with being falsely accused of killing a child.
"I know what it's like to lose a life," Mylett concluded, "and I know what's it like to take one."
She eventually identified in a very big way with trial subjects, but it wasn't Scott Peterson. It was Laci's mother, and, to a lesser degree, Laci's brother, Brent Rocha of Sacramento, also a fixture in the Redwood City courtroom.
"Every single night since July or August, every night when I go to bed, I am part of the Rocha family," Mylett said. "I was at Laci's baby shower. I was there for Christmas, for their graduations. When I dream at night, I'm part of their family.