Cold anger settled over her, calming her initial reaction of shock. The cheerful blue couch had been turned over and ripped open. Its springs and yellow foam were poking out through the jagged gashes in the material. The dresser drawers were scattered across the floor with the main cabinet lying in pieces beside them. It looked as if it had been knocked over on its side and trampled into pieces. She stared at her suitcase. Her belongings were scattered on the floor around it while the case appeared to have been hacked apart with a knife. Her eyes settled on a smashed silver locket on the floor. Her mother had given her it before she died. It was the only piece of her mother that she had left, and someone had smashed it. On autopilot, her years of training kicked in, and she silently closed the door behind her. She tightly clenched her fists as she mentally cataloged the destruction of her belongings. Her senses went on high alert as she silently listened for sounds of the intruders.
