Bret POV
A loud, constant knocking was happening on our front door at ten o'clock at night. We were all getting ready for bed.
'I will get it,' I called out as I passed near the front door, checking that everything was locked up, a silly habit I started when I was young. I thought whoever was knocking was known by the gate guard, or they would never have made it past the gate.
I opened the door. Several police officers were standing on the porch, staring at me as I opened it up. I was a little shocked to see them, but hopefully, I kept my face calm.
'Can I help you?' I asked, feeling lead hit the bottom of my stomach at the sight of them. I was given more time to get the information they needed. Are they here to take me away?
'Are Cynthia and Wendy Peterson home?' The policewoman look
