I was following Charlotte, making sure that she was safe. She had a gun in her hand, and she was keeping her posture low, sneaking around the old bungalow as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. I remembered us sitting in front of the TV, watching the news a night before, relaxing. I remembered how the weatherman forecasted some heavy showers. He was wrong, again.
I felt her pounding heart, her speeding pulse, and the rush of adrenaline. Claire was somewhere else, and I wondered why she let her go in alone.
Charlotte's bright brown eyes registered the voices coming from the cracked window. She stopped instantly, listening in.
She had a clear objective: to secure the premises and arrest one of the guys who was involved in a burglary earlier on, in another area. Someone had given her a lead and now she was pursuing it.
I was behind her, but she couldn't see me. She continued to walk slowly around the house until she reached the door.