Page 246

“I am staying with a friend.”

“Since when?”

“Two weeks.”

“Has either of you filed for divorce or legal separation?”

“No.”

“No.”

He types.

“Why are you living separately?”

Astrid’s fingers close around the folder.

“We had an argument.”

“About?”

She looks at me once.

“A decision Colt made concerning my daughter.”

The officer turns to me.

“Is that accurate?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you dispute that she left because of it?”

“No.”

He writes something, then closes the file halfway.

“I’m going to speak with each of you separately.”

The second office is smaller, with the same beige walls and a desk crowded with more paper than I thought the government allowed one person to own.

The officer puts two sheets beside his keyboard.

“We’ll start with basic information.”

“Okay.”

“What is your mother’s first name?”

“Joan.”

“What city were you born in?”

“Bandera, Texas.”

He writes.

“What color is your wife’s toothbrush?”