“Police department,” Arispe called out. “Open the door.”

There was no response from the unit.

The blinds in the front window remained completely still.

Arispe knocked again, harder this time.

“We have a warrant,” he shouted. “Open the door now.”

A second later, the front door of the apartment swung open.

It wasn’t Derek who stood there.

It was Stephanie.

She was wearing a silk robe, her blonde hair messy, holding a cup of coffee.

She looked annoyed, gesturing angrily at the officers as they spoke to her.

“She is lying to them,” I said, my hands clenching into fists. “She is going to tell them he isn’t there.”

“They have a warrant, Elena,” Marisol said gently. “They don’t need her permission to search.”

Arispe showed her a piece of paper, then stepped past her into the apartment.

The other officers followed him inside, their guns drawn but held low.

Stephanie remained on the walkway, stamping her foot and screaming at the officers who stayed outside.

We waited in the hot car, the minutes stretching out again.

My phone remained silent on my lap.