At 4:17 in the morning, the back-step sensor light switched on. A hooded figure crossed my lawn, entered the garage through the faulty side door, and remained inside for two minutes and forty seconds. Then the person came back out and walked toward the house. Four feet from the back step, they suddenly stopped and looked directly into the security camera. They held that position for four full seconds. Officer Krall paused the recording and asked us to zoom in. The figure was a woman. I recognized her immediately, even before the image became completely clear. It was Priya Natrajan-Fell, thirty-one years old.

Priya had been Emily’s closest friend since their first week at university. She had been a bridesmaid at the wedding, had slept in my spare room countless times, and appeared in the wedding photograph hanging in my hallway. She had also been invited to the gender reveal. Her name was on a place card at table four, and she had confirmed her attendance weeks earlier. Yet she wasn’t there. I said her name aloud, and Emily placed both hands on the kitchen counter. What frightened me most was that she didn’t look surprised. Everyone else in the room was shocked, but my daughter seemed to understand exactly what had happened.