Children who move through many foster homes often invent very complex memories.

It might be wise to have him professionally evaluated before you put too much faith in his words.”

And I understood, in that moment, exactly why she had come.

She had not come to help.

She had come to find out how much I knew, and to plant, in advance, the story she would tell if I knew too much — that my son was a confused child with fabricated memories, and I a grieving father too desperate to think straight.

And then my son stepped out from the end of the hallway.