“I’m sorry to trouble you, operator,” I said, rubbing my thumb over the small white band of skin on my ring finger where my wedding ring used to sit.

“I need to request a welfare check at my new house on Linden Court.”

Rachel stopped her pencil mid-sentence and tapped her red pen against her chin, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Is this four fourteen Linden Court, ma’am?” the township police dispatcher asked through the speaker.

“Yes,” I said, leaning over the counter.

“I closed on the property five days ago, but nobody should be there today.”

“Did a security alarm go off, ma’am?”