I was a block from home and couldn’t wait to collapse on the living room sofa. Meeting with Minnie’s attorney had been emotionally draining—I was sad, tired, and confused. I hoped to feel better after a nap. When I inserted my key into the lock at the back door, I was surprised to find it was not engaged. I was certain I had secured the door when I’d left that morning, as I always did. I slowly opened the door and thought if this was a movie, there would be someone in the audience yelling, “Don’t go in there!” But it wasn’t a movie. I took two steps into the kitchen and stopped. Every drawer and cabinet had been opened and emptied—food, utensils, plates, bowls, pots, pans, and everything else that had once been in the cupboards were scattered all over the floor and on the countertop. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I listened for noises, but the house was deadly silent. Fear overrode all my other emotions. I allowed myself several seconds to calm down before I called the police and then waited for them out front.
