On Thursday night, I was up late. As I finished brushing my teeth, I heard a boom, and then another. I texted my neighbors to be sure I wasn’t hearing things, and then, when I heard the third explosion, I woke up my husband: “I think something bad is happening.”
Almost immediately, we heard rapid gunfire. We raced to check that the doors and windows were locked, and my husband smelled something burning as he re-shut the front door.
Over the next few hours, we took turns watching the side windows and comforting our son (not quite two) as the search helicopters flew low over our neighborhood. By 2:00am, state police had cruisers parked across the street, which was a great relief to us.
Still, we knew that even with all the official resources directed at our town, the police couldn’t be on every side street, and so, in the…
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