It looked as though a tornado had blown through the house. All the furniture was toppled over or thrown across the room; the end tables had been jammed into the stair railing, breaking some of the finely turned spindles. Pictures were torn from the walls, frames and glass broken.
And there, lying on the rug — which appeared to have large yellow urine stains on it — were the family photographs she treasured so much, their frames also broken. It looked as though something had taken them down off the mantel and then stomped on them.
Audrey let out an incoherent cry and ran over to pick them up, not caring about the shattered glass. Tears began to run down her face as she clutched the crumpled photographs to herself. The rest of the house…that was just things. They could be repaired or repla
