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Peyton speaks from beside me. “There are security cameras at the entrance to the building if you want to check the tape for the exact time.”
Officer Smith nods once. His gaze moves to the sleeping baby before he asks the next question. “Did your sister take any baby items with her?”
“No,” I answer.
“Clothes? Formula? Diapers? Stroller?”
I shake my head. “She didn't take anything that belonged to the baby.”
The questions continue, each one forcing us to relive the situation piece by piece. They ask about the items missing from the apartment, the approximate value of the electronics, my guitars and the records that were in the living room, whether my sister owns a car, whether she knows anyone nearby, and whether either of us knows where she might go. Chase answers what he can, but most of his replies sound as useless as mine. I don't know. I'm not sure. Maybe. No.
Eventually Officer Reyes glances up from his notes. “Has this happened before?”
Peyton's hand rests on my knee. I stare at the floor before answering. “She left once before, weeks ago.”
“With the child?”
“No. She left the baby then, too. I got emergency custody soon after.”
“Alright. Here's what we're going to do. We'll make the report for the stolen property tonight. Because an infant was left unattended, we'll also do the appropriate referral for child endangerment. Child protective services may follow up as well, especially given the previous emergency custody,” Office Smith explains.
My stomach twists. “Is Livia in trouble?”
His expression doesn't change. “Your priority should be the child, not your sister, Mr. Braxton.”
Of course I know that. But hearing it said out loud still stings. Caring about Tilly doesn't erase the fact that my sister is missing again. I'm allowed to worry about both of them, aren't I? Livia may have done something unforgivable, but she's still family.
The officers walk through the apartment with me after that, documenting the rest of the missing items room by room. Officer Reyes snaps a few photos while Officer Smith follows along beside me, occasionally asking clarifying questions. Peyton stays in the living room with Tilly, and Chase remains near them, silent and pale, like he's afraid moving will make everything worse.
In my bedroom, I gesture toward the desk against the far wall where my laptop should be sitting. There's only the charging cable left now. “My laptop was here.”
Officer Reyes writes something down and takes a photo of the empty spot. “Make and model?” he asks.
“Latest MacBook Pro.”
“Anything else missing in this room?”
I nod and move toward the dresser. The space beside it looks strangely naked without the familiar shape of my guitar case. I stare at the empty patch of floor where it used to rest. “She took another of my guitars. It was in a black hard case right here.”
Officer Smith looks at the floor, then at me. “Any serial numbers for the instruments or electronics?”
“I might have them somewhere,” I reply. “Receipts or emails maybe. I can send them if I find them.”
“That would help.”
We step back into the hallway and move into the living room. Officer Reyes pauses in front of the TV stand, photographing the empty shelves and loose cords hanging behind it. The absence of the television makes the entire wall look wrong.
“TV, gaming systems, speakers?” he asks, listing the different electronics I mentioned earlier.
“All of it,” I confirm. “And my record collection.”
“How many in total?”
“Two hundred and thirty-eight. I know the exact number as I keep a list on my phone.”
From there we move into the kitchen. I slide the drawer next to the sink the rest of the way out and point inside. “I kept emergency cash here,” I tell them. “A few thousand dollars.”
“How much exactly?” Officer Smith asks.
