I know I didn’t imagine the look of frustration on the police officer’s face when she arrived and saw the four of us for the third time. “Hello,” she said and walked past where we stood in the front garden, as we’d been directed by the first officers on the scene.
There hadn’t been any need to check Elena’s vitals since we could see the knife in her chest and the blood from the wound, so we hadn’t even gone fully into the house. Instead, Adaire had called the police from his phone, and we had stood shivering in the yard waiting for, thankfully, just a few moments.
I told the first officer and three officers after that, including our “friend”—whose name I finally learned was Officer Jonsdottir—that we had come back after a day out and found her like this when we returned. The door had bee
