Ruth was telling the truth when she said he wasn’t the father, but she left out the part about him being dead. Truth, but not the whole truth. Or could it be that she really doesn’t know? Either way, I don’t feel one iota of sympathy. Good riddance. This Eli guy must be real, then. I wonder what part of the truth Ruth is still hiding about him. I want to ask Sully to look into him, but I feel torn. I shouldn’t be talking to Sully at all if I don’t want to lie to Chase. I’ve got to end this. I have to leave, fast. “Thanks for doing that, Sully. I realize that was a huge ask.”

“It wasn’t. Not when you’re the one asking.” Sully doesn’t back up right away.

“I should probably go. Morris will be waiting for me downstairs.”

“Looks like a fun field trip.” He moves off and presses the button for the elevator again. “So, just to be clear, are you going to ignore all my texts? Or just the ones I send this week?”

“I’m not ignoring you,” I say, my voice abnormally light. “It’s just that right now—”

The door pings open.

“Coming?” he asks.

“I think I’ll take the stairs,” I say. “I need the exercise.”

“Alex, we haven’t done anything wrong,” he says. Then he gets into the elevator. I watch as the doors slide closed, leaving me on the outside. I hurry down the stairwell to the parking lot, where Morris and Minerva are already in the government car. Morris is squeezed in the back seat, maintaining his role as observer, the top of his head touching the velour of the roof. He’s installed a baby seat into the space beside him. That’s a good sign. Minerva sits stiffly behind the wheel.

“Come on,” Morris says as I get into the passenger side. “We haven’t got all day to dillydally.”

“She was organizing her love life.” Minerva says. She lurches into reverse before I’ve had a chance to put on my seat belt.

“I was not.” Why can’t she back off?

“Looked like it,” she mutters. Her knuckles shine white on the steering wheel, and I wonder how Morris broached the idea of his joining us on this Floyd visit. It can’t have gone well. Minerva’s been tense all morning, and that was before Sully even arrived on the scene.

“Morris, are you coming into the house with us?” Minerva asks after a moment. “Or are you here in more of an overseeing, conflict-resolution, stay-in-the-car type thing?”

“I’m coming into the house,” Morris says.

“Three social workers is overcooking it, don’t you think? It’ll feel like the Allied invasion.” She takes a corner too fast.

“Can you watch the road, please?” I ask. “And there was a reason the Allies invaded.”