The air inside the house was heavy with a sense of neglect and despair. The living room was sparsely furnished, with an old couch that had seen better days and a battered coffee table littered with empty soda cans and unopened bills. But it wasn’t the state of the room that caused Officer Daniel Harris and Officer Linda Perez to pause—it was the scene that unfolded before their eyes.
In the middle of the room lay a woman, presumably Emily’s mother, sprawled on the floor, her body pale and motionless. Her hair, a tangled mess much like her daughter’s, fanned out around her head. She was dressed in faded pajamas, her expression one of exhaustion and pain. Next to her lay a tipped-over bottle of prescription pills, its contents scattered across the carpet like tiny white pebbles.
