Madison would not live past five, or Abigail past thirty-five. Both were killed last year in their Hollywood Hills “house of horror,” Madison smothered with a pillow and Abigail stabbed with a kitchen knife, her throat slashed. David Safran was found on the hallway floor, shot in the stomach. All had other injuries too—cuts, bruises, and for Madison, a cigarette burn on her inner arm. Who had done this?

No one survived to tell the tale except their British nanny, Casey Adams, nineteen. Ms Adams claimed she had returned home from walking the baby down the street, to find the door slightly ajar and the three family members dead. With Mrs Safran’s blood on her feet and tracked throughout the house, she hid in the cupboard with the baby and called 911, claiming she was afraid the killer might still be in the house. However, neighbors did not see anyone else arrive at or leave the property, and there were no signs of forced entry. Ms Adams’ prints were found on the gun used to kill the father of the family, David Safran. Her trial will begin next month.

Rachel

Rachel

The day of the body – day one, as it would be referred to in the police investigation – was my day off from the shelter. The next morning I got up as normal, when Brandy started her gentle whines and woofs on the dot of six. Dogs don’t understand about lying in, and Alex wasn’t there to keep me in bed, pulling me back against his warm, hard body. I wondered how he had broken the news to Sam. And, selfishly, I wondered what it meant for us, long term. We had known each other only a few months – could it survive something like this, me stumbling across the body of his murdered wife?