“Minerva knew what happened to Rocky Floyd, and she didn’t say a damn thing! Morris, I’ve been very controlled about that. I haven’t been adversarial at all, contrary to what Minerva’s told you. I haven’t gone barreling into her office to ask why, why she would keep that kind of information to herself during an intake visit. I have to assume it’s because she didn’t feel it was relevant, which, by the way, is completely nuts.”

“Alex, you can’t throw blanket statements around like that in the workplace. It’s divisive.”

I counted items on my fingers like a heinous shopping list. “The previous infant died unattended in their care. The second one was left unattended outside a post office. See the pattern? When I first saw Buster, he was sleeping with his face in a couch cushion, with his mother passed out beside him. I mean, is it the same couch where her last son died? Has she even replaced it? The house is disgusting. And Evelyn has an open Addictions file from just months ago. Months, Morris!” I could feel my face growing hot. “Do you not worry what will happen if things go the same way twice? If it got out that we knew about the first instance and did nothing to prevent the second, the media would be all over us.”

He sucks in air through the gap in his teeth. He’s thinking. I wait.

“At the very least, you have to see for yourself,” I say.

“You haven’t mentioned any of this to Minerva?”

“No. I thought it for the best that I come to you first. In the spirit of not being divisive. After all, you’re the team leader.”

“Okay, good, yes, that’s right. I certainly am. I mean, that’s not an ideal working relationship, obviously. All channels of communication between colleagues should be open.” He pauses. “When’s the next home visit?”

“End of July.”

“I’ll speak with Minerva and explain that the Floyd case has caught my eye. I’ll come with you. But, Alex, if I agree with Minerva …”

“Yes, yes, I know.” I raised both palms. “I’ll respect your decision. I trust your judgment, Morris. I just want you there for the visit.”

So that’s progress, however hard-fought.

Now, in the doctor’s office waiting room, Ruth is seated beside me, still jiggling her foot. “Will you stop that?” I say. “Read a magazine.”

“Everyone’s staring. They all think I’ve gotten myself in trouble.” She turns to me. “How can you stand it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. They don’t think that. They’re not even looking at you.”