Now Lily heard sirens, their wails muted by the thick stone wall. Security hardly ever used sirens in New Canaan; on the rare occasion when they came into Lily’s neighborhood, it was a quiet, efficient business. But this woman clearly didn’t belong in New Canaan. Her face was streaked with some kind of grease, and she wore jeans and a torn sweater that looked about three sizes too large. The edges of the sweater were bloody. Lily peered more closely, then drew back with a hiss. “She’s been shot!”