As the cold winter air bit at my cheeks, I made my way up the steps to where the cleaner sat, visibly shaken. I wrapped my coat tighter around me, feeling an unsettling chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The officer stood, clipboard in hand, ready to accompany me inside.
“Ma’am, is there any possibility someone might have access to your house that you’re unaware of?” His voice was calm, but there was an urgency in his eyes that made me nervous.
“No, absolutely not,” I asserted, thinking of the security measures we’d put in place. The door locks, the alarm system, the password-protected garage. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.
