This is how it goes. I ask about the child; the government objects; the judge forces the agent to answer. The answer is always the same.

“Do you know the location of the child?” No or unknown.

“Did you provide my client with information as to the location of his child?” No or unknown.

“Did you provide my client with any information as to how he could go about finding his child?” No or unknown.

In a rare instance, one agent said a child was in a particular city — one far from El Paso. But of course, no details were known regarding the child’s specific location.

At another hearing before a different judge, as one of my colleagues asked the agent on the stand about the whereabouts of my client’s child, the prosecutor objected to the relevance of the questions. The judge turned on the prosecutor, demanding to know why this wasn’t relevant. At one point, he slammed his hand on the desk, sending a pen flying. This type of emotional display is unheard of in federal court. I can’t understand this, the judge said. If someone at the jail takes your wallet, they give you a receipt. They take your kids, and you get nothing? Not even a slip of paper?

—Erik Hanshew, Assistant Federal Public Defender in El Paso, Texas, in a heart-wrenching opinion piece for the Washington Post describing what it’s like to represent parents whose children have been separated from them at the border. Hanshew explains that due to the government’s disorganization they are often unable to tell parents where their children are, what care they’re receiving, or if they’ll be sent away from the U.S. without their children.

Kathryn Rubino is a Senior Editor at Above the Law. AtL tipsters are the best, so please connect with her. Feel free to email her with any tips, questions, or comments and follow her on Twitter (@Kathryn1).