The detectives exchanged glances, and the man held open the door to a bland room with a table, a few chairs, and a camera set up in the corner. The woman, Detective Clark, motioned me in, and Alondra followed right behind. So it would be just us girls. Maybe this detective thought she’d have rapport with me?

She motioned to a chair. “Please have a seat. Do you need a glass of water or a cup of coffee?”

I shook my head. Nothing Detective Clark gave me would set me at ease. I still remembered every detail of the case in Jersey, how the oily detective’s questions all implied I was guilty, everyone knew it, I was a thief and a liar, so I should just come clean. Eventually he’d even threatened me, but there wasn’t any evidence. I’d gotten off that time, but I knew the truth. This detective was not my friend either.

Setting Grace’s carrier gently on the ground, I sat. Alondra’s expression was impassive, but she studied me intently. I must look as strung out and terrified as I felt. I’d never had much of a poker face, and it was taking all my effort to remain upright and lucid. I didn’t have enough energy left to try to hold anything back. Maybe criminals were better at compartmentalizing or multitasking. Maybe they just believed their own lies. I had to hope that truth and Alondra would save me.

The questions Detective Clark asked were like the “active listening” questions I got from Dr. Lindsey. I’d describe what happened, from the time Brady knocked on our back door to the time Michael and I pulled up in front of the police station. And then she’d ask about a small part of it again, repeating what I had said. “So, Mrs. Tremaine, you said Michael left with Brady at nine?”

“Yes.” My mind whirled. Wasn’t that what I’d said? Had I misremembered the time? My voice sounded weak, thin, untrustworthy.

The detective always followed up. “And what time did you say you went to sleep?”

“Asked and answered, Detective.” I was so grateful for Alondra, fierce and awake, while my next-to-sleepless night and caffeineless morning were catching up to me. This interview room, these nice-for-now questions, everything made me feel caught in a mixture of my worst memories and a waking nightmare.

“I’m just trying to nail down the times, counselor. We all know it’s not easy to keep track of that kind of detail, especially for a new parent, who might be a little sleep deprived.”