The woman standing inside my living room was holding a camera.
At first, that was all I noticed.
A black camera with an enormous lens.
Then I saw the measuring device hanging from her wrist, the clipboard beneath her arm, and the open laptop resting on my dining table.
She wasn’t dressed like a guest.
She wore dark trousers, a navy blouse, and a laminated identification badge.
When the second police officer asked who else was inside, the woman stepped out from the hallway leading toward my bedroom.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Is something wrong?”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“Everything’s fine, Susan. Please go back inside.”
The officer lifted a hand.
“Ma’am, could you tell us your name and why you’re here?”
The woman glanced at Adrian.
Then answered.
“Susan Mercer. I’m a property valuation contractor.”
I stared at her.
“A what?”
She looked confused.
“I was hired to document the unit for a residential financing application.”
