Chapter 0196


    Abby


    I’m sitting in the sterile confines of the police station, the room buzzing with the noise of ringing phones


    and chatter. I can’t help but fidget in my seat as the detective shifts across from me, jotting notes down


    on a clipboard.


    “So, you’re absolutely sure you can’t think of anyone who might want to harm you?” the detective, an


    older man with a receding hairline asks, eyeing me over a stack of papers.


    “Detective, if I had enemies, I’d be the first to tell you. I swear, I really can’t think of anyone.”


    He nods, scribbling something down. “Alright. But keep your eyes open. This may just be a random


    targeting, but it’s certainly not an ident. Call us if you think of something, or someone, who might


    shed some light on this situation.”


    Property of N?)(velDr(a)ma.Org.


    “I will, thank you,” I say, standing up to leave. The tension in my shoulders eases just a bit as I make


    my way out of the room. This whole experience is surreal, like some bizarre soap opera that I’ve


    unwittingly be the star of.


    David, myndlord, is waiting for me in the hallway, his usually cheerful face tight with concern. “Abby,


    how did it go?”


    “Fine,” I answer with a sigh. “They’re keeping an open investigation but don’t have any suspects yet.”


    David rubs his temple. “I’ve arranged for maintenance to get started on repairs first thing in the


    morning, but if you want to get a hotel room for a few days, I can cover the lodging expenses.”


    I shake my head. “No, David, that’s kind of you, but I want to go home. I want to take care of my


    belongings myself."


    He looks puzzled. “Are you sure? The maintenance crew can—”


    “I know, I know. But some of those things... they’re not just things, you know? They’re pieces of me. I


    want to handle them.”


    He nods, understanding washing over his features. “Alright, Abby. Call me if you need anything.”


    “I will,” I say, giving him a small but appreciative smile.


    I make my way back to my apartment, my heart heavy with a strange blend of relief and dread. As I


    walk through the door, I survey the damage. It’s like someone took my cozy, sunlit space and dunked it


    into a darkened, charred reality.


    My eyes immediately go to the walls—they’ll definitely need a new coat of paint. And the smell of wet


    wood and burnt paper fills the air.


    But all in all, it’s not all that bad. It could be worse; far worse.


    I decide to start with the living room, carefully lifting a pile of soaked books from the coffee table. I


    arrange some of the more precious ones hanging on the backs of chairs in the kitchen, hoping that with


    time, the air will dry them on.


    Next, I move on to the photographs over the firece, or rather what’s left of them. It’s a bit


    heartbreaking, having to throw away some of the photographs of happier times, but I try to cheer


    myself up by telling myself that I can take more photos.


    “I can do this,” I mutter to myself as I clutch a damp cloth and a bottle of cleaner. I’m about to tackle the


    armchair—my favorite reading spot—and see if I can get the ckness out of it when the doorbell


    suddenly rings.


    I open the door, and my heart leaps straight into my throat. “Oh my god,” I gasp, stunned.


    “Surprise!” they cheer in unison.


    “What on Earth…?” I sputter, overwhelmed.


    “When we heard what happened, we had toe,” Chloe says, holding up a container ofsagna that I


    can smell from here.


    “We’re here to rescue you from the drudgery of cleaning!” Leah adds, swinging a six-pack of wine


    coolers. Reаd at Dramanovеls


    “But guys, I can’t ask you to—”