In 2007, on patrol, I took a call to an apartment on Emerson about a disturbance.

There was a woman, and there was a man, and there was a boy of about nine standing in a doorway in a Vikings shirt.

Nobody wanted to make a complaint.

That is the most common sentence in domestic policing and it was true that night; she said it was an argument, he said it was an argument, and the apartment was tidy and there was nothing to see.

And on the way out, the boy in the doorway said something to me.

He said, “Are you coming back?”