What I felt was a cold, clear space opening in my head, a place where feelings didn’t belong.

Through the windshield, blue and red lights flashed across the wet oak trees at the end of the lane.

A patrol car turned in off the main road, its tires crunching over the gravel of my driveway with no siren.

The red and blue emergency lights shimmered in the rainwater on the brick of the driveway.

Officer Ray Vance stepped out into the glare of his headlights, his yellow rain slicker dripping on the dark gravel.

“Agnes Quill?” he asked, hitching up his duty belt.