His lawn was overgrown and wild—strangely neglected, considering Vernon had hired contractors to maintain the house during his absence. As he stepped closer, his mind reeled at the sight before him.
The front door hung ajar. Windows were broken, the yard littered with debris, and the neat order he had left behind was gone. His heart sank as the extent of the disarray became clear.
Setting his bags down carefully, Vernon braced himself for the unexpected. With heightened senses and extreme caution, he edged toward the front door, ready for any surprises that might await inside.
A quick glance at the backyard revealed trash bags and furniture strewn across the grass. Reaching for the keys under the flower pot, he froze— they were gone. The discovery confirmed his worst fears: something was terribly wrong.
With bated breath, Vernon slowly pushed the door open. A foul odor immediately hit him, thick and pungent, intensifying his unease. Each step into the house felt heavier than the last.
Inside, his worst nightmares were realized. The living room was in chaos—furniture overturned, personal belongings scattered. Walls once adorned with cherished photographs were defaced with graffiti and damage. His sanctuary had been violated.
Vernon’s heart sank further. The dream of returning to the tranquility of home after the hardships of Afghanistan had been shattered. Strangers had discovered his absence and taken over his space. His home—his hard-earned refuge—was now invaded and ransacked.