The officers braced themselves—until they realized what it was.
Sarah wasn’t holding a weapon. She was holding… balloons. Pink, blue, and silver balloons that bobbed against the ceiling. Behind her, on the bed, sat a cake covered in chocolate frosting. There were paper banners stuffed halfway into a box that read: “Happy Birthday, Oliver!”
Daniel’s face flushed crimson. “Oh my goodness… officers, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Officer Rivera blinked. “Then what is it?”
Sarah laughed nervously, her cheeks pink. “It’s supposed to be a surprise. We were setting up something for Oliver’s birthday. He turns seven tomorrow. We didn’t want him to see it yet.”
Officer Jensen tilted her head. “So you were… decorating?”
“Yes,” Daniel admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “We thought he was asleep. We wanted to surprise him in the morning.”
Oliver peeked around the officers’ legs, confused. His eyes landed on the balloons and the cake. His jaw dropped.
