She looked cornered.
And then she looked at my husband.
“Tell them what I told you.”
He stared at her.
“What?”
“Tell them the children were sick. Tell them the records were necessary. Tell them we were trying to prevent something.”
I turned toward him.
“What children?”
Neither answered.
The officer looked back at the notebook.
“That’s what we’re trying to establish.”
My husband’s shoulders dropped.
“There were families before us,” he said.
My stomach tightened.
“What families?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“How many?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
His mother interrupted.
“Enough.”
The officer looked at her.
“Enough what?”
She stared at him with the same cold certainty she had used when she told me I didn’t understand what I had interrupted.
“Enough to prove the work wasn’t random.”
Silence followed.
My husband closed his eyes.
The officer slowly reopened the notebook.
