“You ain’t going to say nothing? My girl never came home.” Her eyes flitted toward the inside of the house, her voice a tortured whisper. “I don’t know who that girl is, but it isn’t my Raya.”

She took a threatening step forward. Nina blocked Mrs. Parsons’s path, shielding Becca from her rage. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to stay where you are,” Nina said. Becca was reasonably confident Mrs. Parsons wasn’t a threat, but that wasn’t her call. She’d learned long ago to trust her partner.

“I never meant to deceive you. Like I said before, Raya’s condition is complicated,” Becca said.

“No shit.”

“What I need to know is how is Raya doing? Does she have a weapon? Anything that might harm Officer Stanton or myself once we’re inside?”

“No. She ain’t got no weapon. Least none I know of.”

“That’s good. Is Raya in a clear state of mind? Does she know who she is and where she is?”

“She did at first. That’s why I told her she could come by for a visit. Told her I’d make her lunch. Next thing I know she’s refusing to leave. There’s no telling when she’ll start spouting off that nonsense. That’s why she’s got to go.”

There was a harshness in her voice that didn’t match the ravaged, hollowed-out expression in her eyes. She wasn’t unfeeling. She simply lacked the tools necessary to manage her daughter’s illness.

“Ma’am, before we can remove your daughter, we need to go inside and evaluate her. Please let us help Raya.”

Mrs. Parsons’s shoulders sagged as if she was giving something up. “Just don’t hurt her,” she said. Nina motioned for another officer, and he led her toward the sidewalk.

Nina gestured to a second uniformed officer hovering nearby, and the two of them made entry into the home, Becca trailing behind them both.

Inside, the house was pitch black and reeked of stale cigarette smoke. Becca spotted Raya at the dining table. She was twenty years old, African American, with jet-black hair she wore in neat braids. A gray Caltech T-shirt hung from her gaunt body. She could have been a college student home on break, before this disease stole her future. Raya didn’t react when they entered, her attention focused on a picture frame she was tightly clutching. Becca couldn’t make out the image, but judging by Raya’s grip on the photo, it was significant.

Nina cleared her throat, her soft, reassuring voice filling the space, but they kept their distance. It was all part of the training. One must remain at least twenty-one feet from a suspect. Getting too close could put the officers at a disadvantage, giving the victim an opportunity to attack.

“Ma’am, I’m Officer Nina Stanton with the LAPD. Your mother called us and said…”

“She wants y’all to get rid of me, don’t she?” Raya said.

“She’s accusing you of trespassing and asked us to remove you from the premises,” Nina replied.