I get up, still holding Will. But when I open the door, it’s Ruth standing there on the mat, her eyes dark sockets of pain. She’s so thin she’s almost unrecognizable, as if in three weeks she’s melted down to the wick. She’s pasty, too, her hair unwashed. This is the real Ruth, in all her scarecrow ruin.

“You can’t be here,” I say. “It’s the middle of the night. It’s not a sanctioned visit.”

“Hi,” she says, trancelike and sweetly, and it takes me a second to figure out she’s not talking to me. “Hi, my little bear.”

I’m holding Will out like a display item, and the two of them have locked eyes. I half turn away, breaking their contact.

“What do you want, Ruth? The family conference is in seven days. You can make your complaints then.”

“You’ll be the one making complaints,” she murmurs, soporific, hypnotized.

“What does that mean? What are you talking about, Ruth? And what did you do with the drugs?”

“What drugs? I thought you knew nothing about them?”

She tries to take a step into the loft, but I barricade the door with my foot.

“You can’t be here. You know that.”

She can’t take her eyes off Will. Her left hand reaches out for his knee.

“Don’t touch him,” I say.

In the doorway, she tries to gather some height. “Sully is a good man,” she says. “You were right about that. And a very good investigator.”

It’s a threat, and I know it. “Shut up,” I say. “You’re bluffing. And you’re doomed. Ruth, do you think I give a single shit about the police?” I shift Will farther from her line of sight. “Let’s talk about the power I have. I’m a child protection social worker. I can remove anyone’s child—anyone’s from anywhere. Even my own sister’s.”

She’s still and silent now, her eyes reddening. “What is wrong with you?”

“Me?” I say. “Look in the mirror, sis.”

“I protected you after Pim. I didn’t want you to carry any of the blame. You were eight years old; you were a good girl, my little sister. And I did it again when you got yourself pregnant. I let you lie and get away with it. I walked away from our family so that you could stay. But you know what I realize now?” She’s choking on the words, coughing them out like phlegm. “I should have just left you to hang.”

“Fuck. You.” The two of us stand in silence. I can feel my heart slamming in my chest. I recover my steadiness and find more words that come out treacly and sweet. “That’s nice, isn’t it, Will? Isn’t she so caring? Your long-lost auntie?” I kiss him lightly on the forehead. “Lucky she’ll never be your real mom.”