CHAPTER 17 ANNAAs I step into the house, an eerie silence greets me. Once neat and inviting, the living room now looks like a war zone.The coffee table is overturned, and the cushions from the sofa are slashed open, foam spilling out. Picture frames of my parents lie shattered, their glass fragments glinting menacingly in the dim light. I move slowly, my heart pounding, noticing the gaping emptiness where the television and other electronics used to be.In the kitchen, cabinet doors hang open, and broken dishes litter the countertops and floor. The refrigerator door is wide open, its contents hastily ransacked. I step over the debris, feeling anger and sadness wash over me.As I head upstairs, my footfalls echo in the unsettling quiet. The bedrooms are no better; closets are emptied, and clothes and personal belongings are tossed carelessly around. I pause at the doorway of the master bedroom, seeing the open safe with its contents missing.The sense of violation is overwhelming. I
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