He opened the door to find two uniformed officers on the porch, hands resting near their belts, eyes scanning him from his dusty boots to the duffel bag still sitting by the stairs. Before he could explain himself, the nearer officer spoke first, voice flat and procedural. “Sir, we got an alarm trip from this address a few minutes ago. Can you tell us who you are and why you’re inside?”
Daniel opened his mouth to say he lived here, then realized how strange that was going to sound coming from a man in deployment fatigues with no ID on him beyond what was buried at the bottom of his bag. He explained anyway — his name, his wife’s name, that he’d just gotten home early from overseas and didn’t know about any alarm system.
The officer’s expression didn’t change. “We’re going to need something to confirm that. Can I see some identification?” Daniel crouched to dig through his duffel, hands suddenly unsteady in a way seven months of deployment had never managed to make them. Behind him, the second officer spoke quietly into his radio, and Daniel caught just enough of it to make his chest go tight.