As if we’re all meant to believe Minerva ever really cared about Evelyn or her son. That was me. She’s a lost cause, always has been. It’s Morris who will have my back. I turn to him.

“Morris, in this job, saving one person always means hurting another,” I say. “Problems hide inside themselves like … like Russian dolls. There’s no way to twist one closed without opening another. As social workers, we know this. We know that what matters most is child protection, and that has to come above all else.”

“Above the law?” Sully asks.

“Above the truth?” Morris adds.

I set my jaw, clenching it. I think of Will, his tiny hand wrapped around that useless clothespin. I want to go home. I want to bury myself in the brand-new, fresh-chance smell of him. Soon. Soon I will be there.

Morris glares at me. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he walks toward the back of the room and yanks the string of the vinyl blinds behind us, exposing the whole whiteboard wall of children in care. “Are there others?” he asks. His whole face has gone gray.

“What do you mean ‘others’?” I ask.

“Other cases where you’ve planted incriminating evidence that undermines not only the safety of children and families but the very essence of social work?” he roars, and the whole room goes rigid. “Are there more cases involving children other than Buster Floyd or Will Van Ness where you’ve lied to ensure a child’s removal?”

We stare at each other in silence.

“Answer the goddamn question, Alex,” Sully says.

But the answer is not so simple. The truth never is. Because the laws don’t cut it. Dysfunctional families reproduce endlessly, while healthy ones lose their children through no fault of their own. It happened to us in Horizon. It happens every second of every day.

Sully stands up, handcuffs at his hip. “I’m arresting you, Alexandra Van Ness, for unlawful possession of a controlled substance and fabricating evidence. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

“I loved you,” I say. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I could say the same thing to you.” He grabs my elbow, urging me up from the chair.

“Ruth,” I say. “Tell them. Tell them the truth. Tell them I only ever wanted to protect Pim.”

“You mean Will, right, Alex? Will. My son.”

Ruth’s eyes fill with tears, but I don’t believe them. I never have.

So what? I made a slip of the tongue. It’s totally understandable, given my stress levels and lack of sleep. I’ve been mothering a child every minute, every hour of the day. And who knew they’d look so much alike?