Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes71 WINDSOR DRIVEA suburb in a blue state somewhere in the US. Jane glanced across the bed to her husband's nightstand. The dim alarm showed 2:22 a.m. A familiar sound had woken her senses. The floor board in the hallway was creaking. There was just one piece of wood in the house that made that noise. The third from the entrance door.“Alan! Alan! She shook her husband quietly, whispering: “Someone is in the house, Alan. I am afraid.”Alan grabbed her hand. Jane was the love of his life. They had two children. A son and a daughter, 2 and 3, sleeping next door. “Call 911, Sweets”, he whispered. With bated breath, he opened the quick-release gun safe in his nights