It is strange watching a man decide whether to shoot or not, to watch his eyes on a target, to see the battle in his head for choices, to see a conversation happen in silence between two men on patrol.
She'd taught me to knit and crochet when I was six, and when I was eight, she'd brought me up here and taught me to target-shoot, bracing my arms on a wooden ironing board that she kept in the trunk of her car.