Omission

Another writing exercise, this one turned out kinda like a horror story, but not really :p

Sarah walked through the ashes of her home.  A tall policeman followed closely behind her.
Sarah held a handkerchief to her mouth as each step kicked up a swirl of dust and ash.
Tears streamed down her face.
"Ma'am, they did everything they could..." the tall policeman stammered, looking uncomfortable.
He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair, looking around at the charred and broken skeleton of the small house.
The house was empty, except for Sarah and the tall policeman.

Sarah walked in to a small room, the ceiling of which had partially collapsed, making it difficult to find a place to step.
She carefully picked her way across to two small beds.  Kneeling down, she brushed some of the debris and soot away.
She felt around on the floor gingerly, with her hand.
Bending over, she tucked her handkerchief into her front pocket, so that she could use her other hand.
"What are you looking for," asked the policeman.
Sarah ignored him and lay down on the floor.  She reached under one of the small beds.
Her hand came away empty.  Frowning, she turned and began groping under the other bed.
The policeman came closer.
"Ma'am, we should go."
Sarah had been searching with both hands under the first bed again, but pulled back and sat on her heels.
Her pretty face and brown dress were smeared with dirt and soot.
"Sarah, it's time to go.  There was no one in the house."
Sarah's head whipped around, and she stared at the policeman, her grey eyes cold and hard.
He shrugged, and began walking back to the front of the little house.

Sarah stood, and idly wiped her face with her now sooty handkerchief.  A wet drop fell on her hand, and Sarah realized she was crying again.
She held herself, rocking back and forth in the small dark room.
Suddenly, Sarah turned and looked over her shoulder.  She stared at a small closet door set into the crumbling wall.
Turning, Sarah took a step towards the door, then faltered losing her balance.  Her foot came down hard on a small toy, smashing it.
Sarah looked down and saw a red line on her ankle where the toy's brittle plastic had cut her.
She looked back to the closet door and took another step.  The door was four feet high, and less than two feet wide.  It was streaked with burn marks.
Sarah slowly reached out towards the blackened doorknob.  She swallowed and grabbed the doorknob with both hands.
Pulling hard, Sarah yanked the door open, almost falling over as she did so.
The closet was dark and empty.  There was nothing inside.
Sarah's voice caught in her throat.
"Hey" she said softly.
She fell backwards onto her hands.  A sharp pain shot into her wrists.
"Hey" she said more loudly, trying to turn away from the empty closet.
"Help" she shouted.
"Officer!"  Sarah began crawling backwards on her hands, felt her hand close on something small, cold and smooth.
"Help, officer" Sarah repeated.  The tall police man ducked back into the room.
"Ma'am?"  He stammered, pulling Sarah to her feet.
"What," he froze, staring out past Sarah at the empty closet, "what is that?"
She opened her hand and glanced at it quickly.  In her hand was a small silver locket.
She popped the clasp with her thumb, and it opened.  Two empty photo frames stared back at her.
"What is that?" the tall policeman yelled, pointing at the empty closet.
"Nothing," Sarah whispered.