“What are you doing here?” He looks sweaty, and his tie’s off-center.

“I just came to hear the verdict. Great result,” I say. “Buster will be much better off now.”

Morris bites his lip. “I hope so. But it’s a strange case. And Mr. Floyd, he’s an angry individual for sure, but I’ll tell you what, he wasn’t high. Through the whole thing, he and his wife aren’t what we usually see. I found them surprisingly likable.”

“The Floyds? Likable?” I ask, swallowing. “Don’t be so easily fooled.”

He looks up sharply, goes to say something more, but just then, Minerva approaches. Her corduroy blazer is about to burst its buttons. “The judge ruled,” she says. “In your favor.” She glares at me, but I let it roll off me.

“I did my job, Minerva.” I did what nobody else would.

The three of us walk back in silence, and as soon as we reach our floor, Morris swerves right toward the kitchen and pours himself a coffee. He takes a long, wretched sip. Any minute now he’ll check his phone and read the email I sent him. I head for my office to give him a little space, while I pull out my own phone and text Sully.

Result! Buster removed from parents. And I’m telling Morris about Ruth. I wait for a few seconds. He usually texts me back instantly. But there’s nothing. Aren’t u pleased? I type.

I look down at my phone again. No new message. I miss u, I type. Had a great time last night. No reply.

There’s a tap on my door and Morris’s head peeps around. “Can we have a quick chitchat?” he asks. “In my office.”

I follow him down the hallway, pleased. Once we’re inside, I close the door as he moves papers off the extra chair so I can sit down.

“You’ve read my email,” I say. “Haven’t you?”

He raises an eyebrow as he sits and steeples his fingers in front of him. “The thing is, Alex,” he says, “I’m onto you.”

“What?” Blood rushes to my neck and throat.

He drums one finger against the other while my mouth gets tackier. “You can try to play things down all you want, but the fact that you’ve written that email at all tells me the situation with your sister is serious.”

I exhale in a rush of held breath. “You’re right. Maybe I should have come to you sooner.”

“With family, things can be … very … murky. We often give loved ones more credit than they deserve.” He pauses so the lesson drives home. “I suspect you’re too loyal to Ruth to really describe the depths of her problem. That must have been a hard email to write.”

When I speak again, my voice cracks. “It was hard to write. It really was.”