70 - Violated
They came a night while we were gone, wedging open the balcony door. Dan claimed they were pros, knowing enough to climb over the rail from the front door platform to our small balcony where the glass door posed less of an obstacle than the front door did, knowing how easily they could get past the latch to the balcony glass door. I had suspected something even before we got upstairs to the apartment when I noticed the lights on above us after we came home after dark. “That’s funny,” I told Louise. “I don’t remember turning on the lights.” Then Louise saw our cat out on the balcony, causing us to rush up the stairs, at which point we took note of the open balcony door. “Someone’s been here,” Dan concluded, as he eased ahead of us through the door into the apartment, his body stiff, cautious, his face a mask of pending fear. He moved like a large cat, not stepping too far from the wall, as if scared someone might pop up behind him. He made his way to the beaded curtain w