Two plainclothes officers slipped quietly into the room, their presence steady but unmistakably authoritative. Sandra’s breath caught as they approached her bedside, offering small, practiced smiles meant to appear gentle. Their eyes, however, held an intent focus that made her pulse throb painfully in her throat.
“Mrs. Thompson,” one officer said softly, “we need to confirm a few details about your husband.” Sandra gripped the blanket, nodding stiffly. The officer’s pen hovered. “His full name?” She forced out, “Jake Thompson,” though her voice trembled. Saying his name suddenly felt like stepping into unknown territory.