“That was your grandmother’s name,” he added softly. “Your mom said she wanted to keep it in the family.”
Her eyes filled despite her best effort. “Stop,” she said, but there was no anger in it. Only fear. “If you’re lying, this is cruel.”
“If I’m lying,” he said, “then I deserve whatever happens next.”
She pulled the car back onto the road and drove toward the station, her thoughts spinning. Procedure demanded she process him like any other detainee. Her heart demanded answers.
At the station, she handed him over to another officer for booking. As protocol required, she stepped away. But she didn’t leave.
She watched from across the room as he sat quietly, hands still cuffed, eyes scanning the space like someone who had learned long ago to wait without hope.
Finally, she approached the desk sergeant.
“I need a moment,” she said. “Personal matter.”
The sergeant looked at her, saw her face, and nodded. “Five minutes.”
She led Robert into a small interview room and closed the door behind them.
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