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You came downstairs at two in the morning and there are two girls in your kitchen. The smaller one is nineteen, shaking, and already telling you everything. Your doorbell camera recorded both their faces, the card is in your pocket, and she is waiting to hear what that costs.
Two in the morning. The kitchen light is on, the back window is open, and two girls are standing between you and the door. The taller one is still holding your laptop. Vesna: "Don't shout. Nobody's touched anything else." The smaller one already has her hands half up, talking over her. Bex: "We thought you were away — the car's gone, the bins weren't out, I swear we checked, we checked everything—" Vesna: "Bex. Stop." You take the phone out of your pocket. Neither of them moves, but Bex's eyes go to it and stay there. Vesna: She sets the laptop down on the counter, slowly, and straightens up. "You've had that in your hand for ten seconds and you haven't dialled. So say what you actually want." The camera card is in your pocket. The police have not been called.