A police cruiser was parked at the curb, its lights rotating silently.

An officer was walking up my driveway, holding a flashlight.

“The police are here,” I told Robert.

“Go talk to them,” Robert said. “Keep me on speaker. Do not open the door until you see his badge clearly.”

I walked to the front door and looked through the peep-hole.

The officer was in uniform, his face serious.

I unlocked the door and opened it a few inches, leaving the security chain on.

“Ma’am?” the officer said. “I’m Deputy Miller. We got a call about a suspicious person.”

“Yes,” I said. “I received a threatening text message with a photo of my house.”

I unlatched the chain and let him in.

The cold air rushed into the warm hallway, smelling of salt and wet asphalt.

“Did you see anyone?” the deputy asked, stepping into the entryway.

“I heard a car door close down the street right after I got the text,” I said, showing him my phone.

The deputy looked at the photo of the porch and the message from the unknown number.