One of the officers opened the rear door. “Ms. Margaret, Ava can stay with Officer Martinez while we talk.”

I hesitated before gently placing the baby into her arms. Ava reached toward me as the officer carried her beneath an umbrella. The gesture pulled painfully at something inside my chest.

Before I got in, I looked back at my own porch. Sabrina was still standing on it, out of the rain, watching me go. She did not call out. She did not tell the officers there had been a mistake.

She simply watched, with an expression I could not read at all, and let it happen.

It would be a year before I asked her about it, and rather longer before I understood that she had thought about it for four hours in a car.

Chapter 7 — The Interview Room

Inside the station, no one put me in a holding cell. No one read me my rights. Instead, an older detective walked me into a small interview room. “Please have a seat.”