Elena’s POV.
The shrill wail of the security sirens echoed down the corridors of the mansion, sending my pulse racing. I bolted from the kitchen, nearly spilling my freshly brewed coffee, and sprinted straight toward the west wing. I was about to round the corner toward Raymond's room when I stopped short—my private office door stood wide open, its lock shattered onto the floor.
I skidded to a halt in the doorway, the mug slipping from my fingers and shattering against the floor. Hot coffee splashed over my shoes, but I barely felt it.
Inside, the room was in total ruin. Drawers were pulled out from my desk, their contents dumped across the floor. Confidential patient records, clinical charts, and administrative files were scattered everywhere.
“What on earth?” I whispered to myself
