The midday sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows and lit up nothing at all.

Every rug, every lamp, every piece of art, the long dining table where we had hosted Thanksgivings — gone.

Their breathing echoed in the empty room.

In the exact center of the living-room floor sat one sad cardboard box: his video games, his folded novelty shirts, his gym bag.

“She took everything,” Regan whispered.

“She took what she legally owned, ma’am,” the officer said.