Marc stayed out of sight, pacing quietly upstairs. Clara watched Rosa move through the house, humming as she straightened a pillow on the couch. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Rosa turned, confused. Clara opened it calmly.
Two uniformed officers stood on the porch. “Rosa Aguilar?” one asked. Rosa stiffened. “Yes?” “You need to come with us.” Clara saw it then—that flicker of panic. Of recognition. But it passed quickly. Rosa nodded, composed again, and walked toward the door with practiced grace.