“Yeah,” Ree said proudly. “I’m strong! I rolled Mommy onto the floor and that made me laugh.” She held up her arms, apparently in imitation of flexing. “It made Mommy laugh, too. I like my mommy’s laugh.” Her voice trailed off wistfully. “Do you think my mommy’s mad because I pushed her off the bed? She didn’t sound mad, but maybe … Once, at school, Olivia tore the picture I drew and I told her it was okay, but it wasn’t really okay and I got madder and madder and madder. I was mad all day! Do you think that’s what happened? Did my mommy get mad all day?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Marianne said honestly. “After you and your mommy wrestled, then what happened?”

The girl shrugged. She looked tired now, wrung out. D.D. glanced at her watch. The interview had been going on for forty-four minutes, well beyond their twenty-minute target time.

“Bedtime,” Ree mumbled. “We got on PJs—”

“What did you wear, Ree?”

“My green Ariel nightgown.”

“And your mother?”

“She wears a purple shirt. It’s very long, almost to her knees.”

D.D. made a note, another detail that could be corroborated, given the presence of the purple nightshirt in the washing machine.

“So after pajamas?”

“Brush teeth, go potty, climb into bed. Two stories. A song. Mommy sang ‘Puff the Magic Dragon.’ I’m tired,” the girl declared abruptly, a trace petulant. “I want to be done now. Are we done?”

“We’re almost done, honey. You’ve been doing a really good job. Just a few more questions, okay, and then you can ask me anything you want. Would you like that? To ask me a question?”

Ree regarded Marianne for a bit. Then, with a sudden, impatient exhalation, she nodded. The girl had the stuffed bunny on her lap again. She was rubbing both ears.

“After your mother tucked you in, what did she do?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Did she turn out the light, close the door, something else? How do you sleep at night, Ree? Can you describe your room for me?”

“I have a nightlight,” the girl said softly. “I’m not five yet. I think when you are four, you can have a nightlight. Maybe, when I ride the school bus … But I’m not on the school bus yet, so I have a nightlight. But the door is closed. Mommy always closes the door. She says I am a light sleeper.”

“So the door is closed, you have a nightlight. What else is in your room?”

“Lil’ Bunny, of course. And Mr. Smith. He always sleeps on my bed ’cause I go to bed first and cats really like to sleep.”

“Is there anything else that helps you sleep? Music, a sound machine, a humidifier, anything else?”

Ree shook her head. “Nope.”

“What is the name of my cat, Ree?”

Ree grinned at her. “I don’t know.”