Page 13 of Screwed

Sutton parks in one of the empty places out front of Blast From The Past and shuts off her car.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to stay and help you pick up?” She asks and I’m about to wave her off when Lyla and Hudson knock on the car window.

Why is everyone trying to give me a heart attack this morning?

Sutton and I step out and Lyla wraps me up in a big hug.

“We heard what happened. We’re here to help with whatever you need,” Lyla says and Hudson nods, pulling me in for a quick side hug.

“Thanks, guys, but I think I’m going to need to do it by myself. I need to clean up and make a list of everything that was broken and what’s missing,” I explain.

“Okay, so you tell us what’s broken, one of us writes it down and the other two can help clean up,” Lyla says.

“Other four,” Madelyn says as she and Flynn join us on the sidewalk.

“You guys don’t have to do all of this,” I start to say but it’s clear that none of them are going to listen to me.

“It will go by faster with all of us,” Madelyn says as she wraps her arms around me.

She rubs my back and I relax against my oldest friend. She knows how much this place means to me and how devastating all of this has to be for me.

A few tears slip free behind my sunglasses and I know that it can’t be helping with my red eyes.

“Thanks,” I tell them, clearing my throat.

We head inside and it hits me all over again. Nothing has changed from last night except for the business card tucked next to the register. It’s from Officer Miles and I know that I’ll be calling him for more details on my case as soon as I get this place back in order.

“Hey,” Teller says as he steps inside.

“What are you doing here?” Sutton asks him.

“Stan said that I could take a few hours to come and help you guys. I just need to be back in time for the first tour.”

“You guys don’t have to stay,” I try to argue again but I know that it’s no use.

When the front door opens again and Arlo walks inside, I just sigh. It seems like I’m not going to be doing this by myself after all.

I know that most people would consider that a good thing. Having friends who love and care about me, who would do anything to help me, isn’t a bad thing. I just wish that I could have a few moments to myself so that I can grieve for the things that were broken.

It’s a strange thing having your place broken into. It feels like a part of me has been violated and I know that it’s because of how much this place means to me.

I keep trying to figure out why this happened. Why my store? I wonder if maybe it was just an easy target, but that can’t be right. I’m pretty sure that every store on Main Street has some kind of security system. Was mine just the weakest?

I push those thoughts aside as I dig my notebook and pen out of my bag and take another drink of my coffee as everyone looks around the shop. It doesn’t look quite as bad in the light of day and I try to find some peace in that.

“Where do you want us to start?” Flynn asks and I look around, wondering where to begin.

“I guess up here and we can work our way to the back room?”

Everyone nods and Madelyn takes Lyla and Hudson down to the market to grab another broom and some more cleaning supplies as I start to write down the damaged items from the first display case.

One vintage art deco wooden box, estimated worth about eighty dollars.

One Antique Till Blue Willow Plate, estimated worth about seventy-five dollars.

Two Japonisme pâte-sur-pâte Paris porcelain vases, estimated worth fifteen hundred dollars.

I want to cry as I sift through all of the broken pieces. These things were like my babies and it hurts to know that they’re lost forever. I can still remember where and when I found each piece and I take a moment as I write them down to say a quick goodbye.

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