A female officer knelt and cuffed Ottoline, who had begun to cough and weep on the cold floor.

As they lifted her to her feet, the old woman looked at me — hair matted, coat ruined, ten-year mask gone for good — and her voice slid back, obscenely, into its sweet frail register.

“Maribel.

Please.

I’m an old woman.

Tell them it was a mistake.