Abruptly she hugged me, awkward and angular but real. When she pulled back, she met my eyes. “We’re going to get through this, but you have to hold it together. If I end up representing Michael …” She shook her head. “I may need to pull in someone else from my office. But that’s a concern for later. Right now, your next step is answering some questions. And I’ll be with you. First, they may read you your Miranda rights—”

I yelped in protest, my whole body recoiling. I should have known that the innocent got blamed and framed, that no one would believe me or Michael, it would be just like before, only instead of embezzlement, this would be something bloody. They’d take Grace away, they’d throw me in jail, they—

Alondra gave me a little shake. “Hey, it’s protocol. And they might not. But even if they do, it doesn’t mean they’re charging you. You won’t have to answer a thing, not a single thing, unless I give you a signal. Look at me. Focus.” She gave me a small, unmistakable nod. “I’m here for you. Okay?”

She waited until I nodded back, and then she said, “Okay. So they may read you your rights, they may give you papers to sign, but I’ll look at each and every one first. Then they’ll want you to tell them the events of last night, just the same way you did for me. You’ll have to repeat parts and tell them out of order, they may go over the whole thing several times, but don’t get flustered. Don’t guess or try to speculate. Just say that you don’t know and stick to the facts you’re completely sure about.”

I felt so alone. “When can I see Michael?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about that right now. The only thing you need to focus on is this interview. Then we’ll get you and Grace out of here.”

“Whatever happened, they know it was Brady’s fault, right?” Brady had been the one in handcuffs, and he could be lying his ass off this very minute, trying to put all the blame on Michael.

Alondra stood, and as I rose to my feet, she said, “I know you have questions. Let’s get through this interview, and then we’ll deal with what comes next.”

I followed her back into the depths of the station, lugging Grace in her carrier. There were two detectives waiting in the hallway—a man about a decade older than me and a woman with close-cropped hair and a narrow face who looked about my age. While they were introducing themselves as Detectives Haley and Clark, I couldn’t help looking past them, yearning for a glimpse of Michael. I could hear the hum of voices, but they belonged to anonymous strangers, not my husband.