I did not go back with the officers.

I could not face the bedroom yet.

Mr.

Dawson agreed to meet them.

Later he described the quiet street, the marked car and the small team entering the home without raised voices.

They photographed the kitchen sink crowded with dishes, the refrigerator containing prepared meals I’d left untouched, and the trash bags beside the garage.

Inside one bag were unopened packets of postpartum recovery supplies.

Another held the pharmacy bag Mr.