Update to: What a day...

Like wearing a cloak woven with threads of worry, doubt, despair, sadness, grief, and misery we felt heavy as she told us the news, "He, she, uh, is dead." Our bodies, crushed by the news, made for weak legs and lead hearts.
She saw us from up the street as we mounted the motorbike on our way out. Dressed in her police woman uniform, obviously an officer of caliber with her many decorations gracing her chest and shoulders, she walked towards us.
We both had a sinking feeling all week. Driving past the house each day, we looked. For the first few days, we looked and saw emptiness. But as the week continued, we noticed that there were several cars at the house. That's what worried us.
As she approached I removed by helmet, walking towards her, "how is everything?"
She told us the sad news, her eyebrows furrowed.
"I think it okay you come. Saturday, uh...you come. I think okay. Twelve, twelve o' clock, ka. she, uh he, dead." Her hands palm up to the sky.
"We are so sorry. Are you okay?" we asked her, my hand to my heart.
"Thank you." she said as she held my face in her hands kissing me on the cheek.
As she walked away, the weight grew and we fell into an introspective silence.
It was like hitting a wall.
"We did everything we could." Erik said as we took off.
"I hope so. I just think, should I have done something different?" I ask into the darkening sky pregnant with storm.
"I don't know, Molly. I don't know."