It was a search site.
Two police cruisers sat at the curb. A dark federal sedan blocked the driveway. Neighbors stood behind curtains and half-open blinds, finally receiving the kind of spectacle Linda had always feared, though not the one she had planned for me.
I arrived in uniform.
I did not do it for drama. I did it because that morning I had decided I would no longer shrink myself to make anyone else comfortable.
Linda was on the front porch when I stepped out of the car.
She wore a cream cardigan and pearl earrings, the costume of innocence. But her face changed when she saw me. Her eyes went first to my uniform, then to my shaved scalp beneath my service cap, then to the agents behind me.
“You brought strangers into my son’s home,” she said.
“My home,” I replied. “And they have a warrant.”
Her lips pressed together.
Special Agent Price approached. “Linda Carroway?”
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