“The address they broke into is listed as your former residence,” he said. “Is 847 Maple Street a house you used to own?”
My stomach dropped.
“I sold that house,” I said. “A month ago.”
Another pause, heavier this time.
“Then they didn’t know,” Officer Hughes said quietly. “That would explain… a few things.”
“What were they doing there?” I asked, voice rising.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he said. “They caused significant damage to the interior of the home. Destroyed furniture, broke windows, spray-painted obscenities on the walls. The new owner came home to find them in his living room, smashing a coffee table with a baseball bat.”
I sank onto Julian’s couch, legs suddenly useless.
“You’re serious,” I whispered.
“Very,” Officer Hughes said. “The damage is estimated at around forty thousand dollars. Your parents claimed they believed it was still your house and that you’d wronged them.”
I closed my eyes. My heart was pounding so hard it made my ears ring.
“They said they were getting back at you,” he continued. “For abandoning your family.”