"I do," I said. "I think the neighbor will make sure I don't go hungry."
Martinez gave the smallest smile. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Rodriguez. And remember, please call if anyone else threatens you."
The police released the scene after completing their immediate work. I photographed the damage myself, then called an emergency repair service. While I waited, I stood in the kitchen. Drawers were open. Papers covered the floor. My daughter's school art project lay beneath a pile of invoices, bent at one corner. Trevor had pulled apart the room looking for evidence to protect his mother, and in doing so he'd thrown the ordinary pieces of our lives around like trash.
That made me angrier than the broken door. I knelt and picked up Zoe's drawing. It showed our house in bright colors, with Gerald standing by the walkway and exaggerated flowers growing around the porch. Across the top she'd written OUR PLACE in crooked block letters. I smoothed the paper against the counter and carefully set it aside.
Dolores appeared at the doorway after I told her it was safe to approach. She looked around and covered her mouth. "Ay, mijo."
"He's gone," I said.
She stepped inside and hugged me. I tried to remain composed and failed. For a few seconds, I stood in my ruined kitchen with my face against her shoulder, shaking like a boy who had finally reached someone safe after a frightening day. Dolores didn't tell me to be strong. She simply held on.
"You didn't deserve this," she whispered.
"I just wanted a house for Zoe."
"I know."
I pulled away and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize for being frightened. Come to my place. I'll make tea while the repair people work."
Across the street, her kitchen smelled of cinnamon and bread. She put water on the stove and gave me a chair. I called Elena and told her the intruder had been arrested and nobody was hurt. She said Zoe was sleeping and that she would explain the situation in the morning so our daughter didn't learn about it from rumors. I asked her to tell Zoe the house would be secure before she returned. Elena promised she would.
By dawn, a temporary repair had been completed and a professional assessment was scheduled for the damaged frame. I had not slept. The sky over Maple Street turned pale, and the neighborhood began waking up as though nothing unusual had happened. Delivery trucks moved down the street. A jogger passed in bright blue shoes. Somewhere a garage door opened. I watched the ordinary morning and thought about how strange it was that the world could continue while your own sense of safety lay scattered on a kitchen floor.
Janet called at seven after I sent her a brief message. I told her the facts, the arrest, and Trevor's statements. She listened carefully. Then she asked whether I had received a report number and whether the original recordings were backed up. I had. She told me to keep the criminal investigation separate from the membership meeting to the extent possible. We could accurately tell the members that an arrest had occurred and explain what I'd personally witnessed, but we were not going to claim access to evidence the police hadn't released or speculate about charges still under review.