Page 27 of Heart Strings

Gracie

The sunlight spills through my bedroom curtains, painting a warm glow that matches my mood this morning. I stretch, my heart feeling lighter than it has in a long time. Connor and I are really doing this, and the best part? It feels so incredibly right, so natural.

I reach for my cellphone on my nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message that makes my heart skip. It’s from Connor.

Good morning, Tink. Last night was perfect. Have a great day at the store. Can’t wait to see you later.

A smile tugs at my lips, and I type back a quick response, my fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

Morning! Yesterday was wonderful. See you soon!

Floating on cloud nine, I hop out of bed and head to the shower, letting the warm water wash over me as I plan the day ahead, humming a tune absentmindedly. After drying off and getting dressed, I grab a quick breakfast and head out, eager to start the day at the bookstore.

Sophie is going to want all the juicy details and I am sure she’ll be the first to say ‘I told you so’.

As I approach the store, I’m humming to myself, still wrapped up in the memories of last night. However, the moment I unlock the door and step inside, my heart drops to my stomach. The store is a mess. Books are strewn all over the floor, some of my displays are knocked over, and there’s spray paint everywhere.

“No, no, no,” I mutter, my initial shock turning into a wave of nausea. This can’t be happening. Not here. Not my safe haven, the place I’ve poured so much of myself into.

Frozen for a moment, I struggle to process the scene before me. Tears prick my eyes as the initial shock gives way to a deep, throbbing ache. This isn’t just a random act of vandalism—it feels personal, an attack on the place that holds so many memories of my mom and me.

Pulling myself together, I grab my phone and dial the sheriff’s office. My voice shakes as I explain what’s happened. “Hi, this is Gracie Willow, I need someone to come to Chapter One on Ninth! It’s been vandalized, there’s… books strewn everywhere and spray paint—“

“Woah, Gracie, calm down, darlin’, and tell me what’s going on. Slowly this time, okay?” Shiela, Sheriff Bowman’s emergency operator, says.

I take a deep breath and repeat myself. The Sheriff must have been close to Shiela when my call came in, because she says he’ll be coming here himself. And before I can completely lose my mind, I call Connor. It doesn’t even take two rings for him to pick up.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Connor’s voice is instantly soothing, but it breaks a little when I start to speak.

“Connor, it’s the store... Someone trashed it. Everything’s everywhere, and I... I don’t know what to do.” My voice cracks, the strength I felt this morning evaporating.

“I’m on my way,” he says without hesitation, his tone firm, protective. “Hang tight, Tink. I’ll be right there.”

While I wait for Connor and the sheriff, I try not to let the tears fall. I walk through the chaos, resisting the urge to pick up a few books and set them back on the shelves, though it feels like trying to stem a flood with a bucket. Torn and damaged books, displays spray painted and knocked over, glass cases smashed.

Who would do this to me?

Soon, the sound of hurried footsteps announces Connor’s arrival. He bursts through the door, his blue eyes scanning the damage before settling on me with a pained expression.

Without a word, he crosses the room and pulls me into a tight embrace. I bury my face in his chest, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability.

“I can’t believe this happened,” I whisper, the reality of the situation settling in. “Who would do this, Con?”

“Let’s go outside, Gracie,” he suggests gently, guiding me to the front stoop. He doesn’t say anything; he just holds me close and rubs comforting circles on my back.

Sheriff Bowman arrives shortly after, his expression grave as he takes in the scene inside. “Gracie, do you know if anything’s been stolen?”

I shake my head, feeling numb. “I haven’t checked fully yet. It doesn’t look like they touched the register, but I don’t keep much cash there.”

“We’ll need to take some photos, dust for prints, the usual procedure,” Sheriff Bowman explains as he pulls out his notebook. “Did you notice anything unusual when you closed up yesterday? Anyone hanging around?”

I rack my brain, trying to think through the fog of distress. “No, nothing unusual. Just a normal, quiet day.”

Connor stays close, his hand finding mine and squeezing it reassuringly as the sheriff asks more questions and a deputy begins their work.

As they do their job, Connor keeps me distracted, talking about anything but the chaos behind us. He even manages to draw a small laugh from me with a story about his latest songwriting mishap. But despite his efforts, my eyes keep darting back to the doorway, to the violated space that was once my refuge.

Finally, Sheriff Bowman comes back out. “We’ve done what we can for now. We’ll need to review the footage from nearby security cameras since I notice you don’t have one installed. I’ll keep you updated, Gracie.”

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