As the cold winter air bit at my cheeks, I made my way up the steps to where the cleaner sat, visibly shaken. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, feeling an unsettling chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The officer stood, clipboard in hand, ready to accompany me inside.
“Ma’am, is there any possibility someone might have access to your house that you’re unaware of?” His voice was calm, but there was an urgency in his eyes that made me nervous.
“No, absolutely not,” I asserted, thinking of the security measures we’d put in place. The door locks, the alarm system, the password-protected garage.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The officer nodded, motioning for his partner to join us.
“Alright, we’re going to take a look.
Please stay here with my colleague.”
I watched as they entered the house, the door closing softly behind them. My heart was pounding, a rhythm of uncertainty and fear. The cleaner, still perched on the step, glanced at me with wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“You did the right thing,” I assured her, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. Minutes ticked by like hours.
I stared at the windows, half-expecting to see a shadow move across the glass. I couldn’t shake the memory of her whisper: “I think someone is upstairs.”
Before long, the officers emerged again, their expressions guarded.
My husband pulled into the driveway just then, his face drawn with concern as he hurried toward us.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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