About eight o'clock one evening the doorbell...

About eight o'clock one evening the doorbell rang. My husband was occupied upstairs, and my daughter was in the laundry at the rear of the house. So I went to answer the door. As I walked toward it, I picked up my little dog. The caller was a young man who said his car had broken down, and he asked to use the telephone to call for help. Our home is across the road from a university; frequently students have asked to use the phone.

It was quite dark and the porch light dim. I let the young man in. When I turned to indicate where the phone was, he had pulled a ski mask over his face and was pointing a gun at me. Then he went back to the door, opened it, and two more men entered, also wearing ski masks and holding guns.

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