As the door swung open, Officer Morales braced himself for what lay beyond the threshold. The air was thick and musty, carrying a stale odor that clung to the walls like a shadow. Jimena stepped inside, her small figure tense yet resolute. Morales followed, his eyes scanning the dimly lit interior.
The living room was sparsely furnished, with a threadbare couch and a cracked coffee table. Papers and empty food containers littered the floor, telling an unspoken story of neglect. The windows, obscured by heavy drapes, let in only slivers of light, casting long shadows across the room.
“Where is he?” Morales asked softly, trying not to startle the girl.
