Police tape lines the yard

I walk past

Baby blue house in cookie-cutter neighborhood

I look down and it says welcome

I quickly step in and close the door

so the camera flashes don’t glimpse inside

A table set for seven with pink orchids in the middle

Hand-colored drawings with markers on the fridge

Alphabet letters spelling words that don’t exist

A X Z F C

I walk down wooded stairs

A big screen with Wii and PlayStation

Cords amongst cords and controllers

Board games and Twister on the shelves amongst

teen novels, adult fiction, and picture books

Door in corner eyes me expectantly

The lock was broken by fellow officers

I walk in

A storage shed with boxes

Christmas lights hang down

One more door hides in the shadows

I once more walk in

Concrete greets my feet

Cells with key inserts

Chains, heavy metal

Food bowls with water dishes

White chalk lines marking days

One, two, thirteen, twenty-five

I am upstairs once more

Intentionally saved for last

The family room

Couches matching patterns

Lamps on corner tables

A warm fireplace

Television with Disney movies on the floor

Pieces of glass by the wall

I gently step over the red stain on the carpet

Bullet holes in every picture frame

I study the pictures

They are smiling

They are lies