"Crash, bang." I spring out of bed. Two of them are in my bedroom. They escort me to my kitchen where I see my husband, restrained. They sit us both in chairs. It is two-thirty in the morning. I notice some broken wood on my kitchen floor. "Did you kick down my door?" I ask. "Yes," one replies. I can hear the other two in my bedroom. They are going through our stuff. We are not allowed to know what's going on in there. One of them goes upstairs. My...
Related Subjects
True Crime