She still cries when she thinks about the 12 people she never met. At night she imagines the horrors she only heard about.

The life she led before this summer still feels out of reach, and she fears that others will find out who she is and what she did for 16 weeks.

A woman who served on the Aurora theater shooting trial says the gunman did not deserve a life sentence, but he also didn’t deserve to die.

Now, after more than seven weeks of silence, she has decided to speak out because she says the narrative that the public’s been told — that a single juror spared the gunman’s life — is wrong.

Three jurors were convinced James Holmes should not receive death, according to the juror, who has not previously discussed the decision publicly and who spoke to The Denver Post on condition that she not be identified by her name or juror number. She was among the three.

In a lengthy interview last week, the juror provided the most detailed look at what went on in the deliberation room for one of the highest profile trials in state history.

WATCH: Juror in Aurora theater shooting trial breaks her silence and other top stories

“There were three,” she said. “Not one.”

The juror still believes in the death penalty, but she is adamant that death was not an appropriate sentence for Holmes. She said she decided to end her silence because she could no longer bear to watch the weight of public scrutiny — what she described as a “witch hunt” — fall solely on the shoulders of her fellow juror.

“I don’t think any one of us three would ever tell you that he deserved life or that we felt life was appropriate. It’s just that the other option wasn’t an option,” she said. “It was one or the other. You didn’t get anything in the middle.”

More than three years after 12 people were killed and another 70 were injured at the Century Aurora 16 theater, the jury of nine women and three men filed into the jury box for the final time on Aug. 7. For the first time during the 65-day trial, the group of 12 was unable to reach a unanimous decision.

The disagreement marked the end of the trial and ultimately resulted in a life sentence for Holmes. But, for some, the trial’s outcome left a troubling question:

How could 12 people unanimously find a man sane enough to be guilty of the horrendous crimes, but not find him deserving of death?

An answer emerged in the back corner of the courthouse parking lot.

Juror 17, the sole juror to speak to the media immediately after the trial, said nine jurors favored a death sentence, one woman was firmly opposed and two were uncertain but were willing to continue deliberating.

Arapahoe County District Attorney George Brauchler has said he wouldn’t second-guess his decision to pursue the death penalty because of one juror’s position that led to the life sentence.

Last week, he said all of the deliberating jurors he’s spoken with have indicated that Juror 17’s account was accurate. He conceded that he hadn’t met with all of them.

The juror who spoke to The Post said she has not spoken to prosecutors or defense attorneys.

In the interview at an empty diner in eastern Arapahoe County, the juror eyed the wait staff. She politely asked to move to a table in the corner of the room, out of earshot of others.

It was the first of two relocations she would make in the restaurant.

The toll of the trial is evident. At times she fights back tears. Afraid someone will recognize what she’s talking about, she stops in the middle of words when a server checks on her meal.

Still, her timid tone turns authoritative as she describes how she, another woman and a man firmly opposed a death sentence in the case. She cringes at the word “holdout.”

“It may not be the answer you’d like to get, but it was the correct answer to get,” she said. “It may not be the answer you’d like to give, but it was the correct answer to give.”

The confusion, she said, may have been in the numbers.

During the final round of deliberations, each juror used a one to 10 scale to describe how certain they felt in their position — not whether they were leaning toward life or death. Each time she was asked, her number inched closer toward 10.

First 8.5. Then 9. The next was 9.9.

Eventally the question was posed to the group: Is anyone adamantly in favor of a life sentence?

A woman raised her hand. Had that juror hesitated five seconds, the other juror said she would have raised her hand first.

Some jurors were surprised that the woman who raised her hand, who reported 9s and 10s, was in favor of a life sentence and not death, the juror said. A final poll tallied the votes.

Nine for death. Three for life.

Earlier, the panel was unanimous in rejecting Holmes’ plea of not guilty by reason of insanity. For the juror, it was all the little things he did to hide his plan. His decision to change clothes in his car instead of wearing his body armor into the theater. The forethought to use his cell phone as a ruse to step out the back door.

“He knew that nobody else around him would have thought that what he wanted to do was appropriate,” she said. “He knew right from wrong.”

While the juror does not feel Holmes deserved a life sentence, his severe mental illness also ruled out death, she said.

“It’s the fact that mental illness is there,” she said. “How deep into the delusion the individual was, is impossible to tell.”

The juror said deliberations were always cordial. The group took pride in not rushing anyone and examining key points “with a microscope,” she said

Everyone strived to keep an open mind.

“I wanted to be the kind of juror I would want if it was me,” she said. “That was the whole idea. If I was going to be there, I wanted to be sure that I would want me as a juror.”

Still, sitting in a box full of people was isolating and lonely.

The jurors listened to dozens of stories from survivors, and they looked at videos and photos of the victims inside the theater. They heard the heartache of parents, siblings, children and others who lost their loved ones.

She was often overwhelmed by the pain survivors live with every day, and frustrated that she couldn’t discuss details of the trial. She distanced herself from friends and family.

“It’s lonely,” she said. “You don’t have anybody else there to understand.”

Even some family members continue to struggle to understand her position.

Walking to her seat in the jury box for the final time, the juror felt “like a car was parked” on her chest. She couldn’t look at the victims’ families as the judge announced the decision.

“You can’t say sorry enough to them,” she said through tears welling up in her eyes. “I know that it was the appropriate answer.”

Jordan Steffen: 303-954-1794, jsteffen@denverpost.com or @jsteffendp