Their blue emergency lights were switched off, and nobody outside appeared to be in any rush.

That detail should have reassured me, but it did not lower my heart rate in the slightest.

Out on the front porch, Gavin stood barefoot in a pair of gray sweatpants, speaking frantically to a uniformed police officer.

Brenda hovered directly behind him in the doorway, once again wrapped tightly in my bathrobe.

Even through the low resolution of the security camera, I easily recognized the posture Brenda assumed whenever she felt deeply offended.

Her chin was lifted high, her shoulders were squared, and one hand was pressed dramatically against her chest.