The white princess bed I’d picked out was scratched and worn.
The nightstand was cluttered with snack wrappers, used socks, and undergarments.
The master bedroom had its bathroom, which I had equipped with a high-tech toilet. The last time I visited, it was pristine, but now it was stained and emitted a repugnant smell.
Seeing my once-favorite room in such a state made me furious.
But then I reminded myself that Mom was probably just trying to accommodate Cody’s son during the summer break.
I couldn’t let her feel bad about this.
However, Mom said the boy was only visiting for the summer, but judging by the condition of the bathroom, it didn’t seem like he had just arrived.
I closed the door to the master bedroom and turned to the second bedroom. It had good natural light as well, so I hoped Mom had moved my things here.
But when I opened the door, I was shocked again.
The furniture was in disrepair. The ceiling light was cracked, the doorknob was broken, and the closet door was hanging off its hinges.
The room was cluttered with piles of cardboard boxes and plastic bottles, resembling a small recycling depot rather than a bedroom.