“She was referred by one of the volunteer counselors at the Holy Grace Tabernacle. She’d been searching for therapy, took some wrong turns, finally found someone with the good sense to refer out. She’s a resilient kid and on the surface she’s been doing okay. A research study would rate her as doing great because there’s no substance abuse and she’s gainfully employed— works at The Gap. She owns a fifteen-year-old clunker that usually starts and shares a one-bedroom apartment with three other girls.”

“You see her pro bono?”

“There’s no such thing as free,” she said. “I don’t sell delusions.”

Allison volunteered once a week at a hospice. Was one of the few busy Westside therapists who saw patients at deep discount.

That, I supposed, made Beth Scoggins’s presence a bit more than coincidence.

“The first three months were spent earning her trust. Then we started dancing around the issues. The history of abandonment was obviously crucial but she was resistant. Wouldn’t talk about foster care either, other than to say it hadn’t been fun. I’d gotten more directive the last few weeks but it’s been a drawn-out process. Her next appointment wasn’t for four days but an hour ago she put in an emergency call. Agitated, crying, I’ve never heard her like that, she’s always been a restrained girl. When I finally calmed her down, she told me someone claiming to be a psychologist had called her out of the blue, a research project on foster care. It confused her and scared her, she didn’t know what to think. Then she told me the caller’s name.”

She crossed her leg. “She broke speed limits to get here, Alex. Began to unload before she sat down.”

“What a mess. I’m sorry, Ali— ”

“On balance, maybe it’ll turn out to be positive.” Her eyes met mine. Blue, cool, direct. “Are you really conducting research?”

“Of sorts.”

“Of sorts as in Milo stuff?”

I nodded.

She said, “That’s what I was afraid of. You felt deception was absolutely necessary?”

I told her what we’d come to suspect about Drew Daney. Lee Ramos’s pregnancy, abortion, and suicide. The trail of deceit and betrayal that had led me to Beth Scoggins.

“I’m sure that made it seem exigent,” she said. “Right now I’ve got an extremely vulnerable nineteen-year-old in my office. Ready?”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“You assumed it was a great idea before you knew she was my patient.”

“Allison— ”