An officer stepped forward and raised his hand.
“Ma’am, you need to stop here.”
“I live here,” I said immediately, my voice thin. “I’m coming home from the hospital. My newborn is in the car.”
He glanced inside, saw Eliza, and hesitated just long enough to give me false hope.
“I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his hand but not moving aside. “You can’t enter the area right now.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean I can’t enter? That’s my house.”
“The property is part of an active investigation,” he said carefully. “Police have secured the scene.”
The words didn’t make sense. Not together. Not in my life.
“Where is my husband?” I asked. “Marcus Hale. He’s supposed to be inside.”
The officer exhaled slowly.
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