Your security footage, your neighbor’s statement, and the video they posted gave us probable cause. We breached the door six minutes ago.”

Before I could answer, a small sound came through the open doorway. Broken, thin, like something frightened in the dark.

“Daddy? Are you here?”

I went past the lieutenant before anyone on that porch could move.

The house smelled of vinegar and cheap dish soap and fear. The family photographs were still lined up along the entry hall — Samantha smiling in a white dress, Chloe on my shoulders at the beach, Gertrude posing beside a birthday cake.

The whole lie of our domestic life, hanging on the drywall.