Chase is on me immediately. “Are you okay? Ruth? Take a deep breath. There you go. And another,” he says, his calmness fake.

Pain submerges me as a fresh aching pull surges, so much stronger than the last, creating sound in me I’ve never heard myself make before. It’s primal and bewildered, like the bellow of cows Dad helped butcher on the neighboring farm. I scramble for the strap of the bag and pull it up to my lap, dig for the clothespin in there—Pim’s pin—the one I hold when I’m the most afraid of anything. Finally I grasp it. The wood of the clothespin is worn and smooth.

They are talking now, but it’s as though they’re so far away. Chase tells me to breathe. I hear Sully’s voice saying he’ll follow us.

“No, I don’t want him to,” I pant, but Chase is already taking off, driving out of the parking lot and fast through backstreets. Trees streak by in hard lines of green, and I can’t think anymore, I can’t think.

ALEX

I’m so close to the finish line now that my fingers are trembling on the keyboard of my computer. The office is quiet. That’s good. Keep going, I tell myself. It’s all for the best. I read over what I have so far.

Morris,

I’m worried about my sister, Ruth. I haven’t spoken to you about her before, but she’s about eight and a half months pregnant and has been living with me since June. The man she’s having a child with is Eli Beck. There’s a criminal history there—violence, abuse, and drug use—and he’s here in Moses River to be with Ruth. My sister has been in jail, a fact that I learned just recently, and I have reason to believe she has an ongoing issue with drugs—and maybe some other concerns as well. I’m worried for her child, Morris. Can we chat later this morning when you’re in? I don’t want to be alarmist.

Alex

I pause, bite the fingernail of my thumb. Every move I make has to be perfect. There’s so much to do today. I didn’t sleep well last night—thoughts rattling in my head—although nobody was awake by the time I got back to the loft, and Chase didn’t stir as I slid under the covers. But today is crucial. It’s when everything comes together. I crack my knuckles and press Send on the email. It swoops away from me, a gentle bird in flight.

I grab my satchel, hook the strap across the front of me, and glance up at the clock on the wall. It’s just past nine o’clock. Right on time. The Floyd decision will be well underway.