We were brisk and efficient. We did not hug. Second day of the trial, and already we were coming apart.

At the kindergarten I met Tvist. He had delivered Josi, was placing her lunch box into the plastic crate by the door to the kitchen. I lifted Franklin, my hands in his armpits, lowered him into his Crocs. “One foot,” I said. “And the other foot.”

“Foo,” said Franklin excitedly. “Foo!”

“I enjoyed your piece today.”

I looked up, wary.

No edge to Tvist’s smile. “You are right,” he said. “Of course those men are sane.”

I bent down. “Franklin,” I said, “go and play.” Franklin, suspicious in his dungarees and his Crocs, threw his arms tightly around my thigh.

“Separation anxiety,” said Tvist.

I lifted Franklin up, stood facing Tvist. “Is that all?”

“I’m not sure I understand.” He knew what I was saying—of course he knew—but he kept his gaze level and his smile polite.

“Hei, Franklin!”

In my arms I felt Franklin kicking, stretching away from me. I turned to see Leni walking toward us. Franklin was making little oh oh sounds, kicking happily. I kissed him on the forehead and passed him over.

“Hey, Leni,” I said.

Leni smiled. “Hi, Cal. Hei, Ephraim.” She knelt, picked up Josi in her free arm, and carried the children into the Red Room, knocking the door shut with her thigh.

“Perhaps I will see you in court today,” said Tvist. He turned. He was ending the conversation.

I caught the door as it swung shut behind him, followed him out along the path. As he reached the gate I touched his shoulder and he turned.

“You lied to me. About the Post-it note. And I know there’s more.”

“Is there?”

“Maybe your problem isn’t police incompetence? Maybe it’s active corruption?”

“How would one even prove such a thing?” For a moment he looked almost amused, though I could feel the underlying anger. “Why are you pursuing a narrative that is harmful to the police, and harmful to our country?”

“Are you telling me not to make an enemy of you?”

“That’s one interpretation, isn’t it?”

There was an analytical coldness to him now, a hardness in his quick black irises. Then he was smiling. “If only ethics did not prevent us from taking a beer together.”

“A beer?”

“I am certain this could be cleared up over a beer.”

He walked toward a gray Tesla SUV, lifted the gull-wing door on the driver’s side, sat down. The door closed. The car moved silently off.