I turn. Macy’s rushing toward me from the direction of the parking lot, out of breath as though she ran the whole way.
“Sadie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I thought everyone would be happy for you, and I didn’t think about—“ She’s talking fast, words tumbling over each other. ”—I should have asked before posting, and I’m so sorry, and I understand if you fire me, but please know I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I’m not responding. I can’t. My eyes keep going back to the door. The window. To my red-stained hand.
Those words.
“And I know it’s my fault, but I swear I was just excited and I thought—“ Macy stops mid-sentence and follows my gaze. “Oh, my god.”
That’s putting it lightly.
“Oh my god, Sadie, who—when did—“ She steps closer to the door, reaching out to touch it, then pulls her hand back as though she fears it will burn her. Her face goes from shock to furious in about two seconds. “Who the fuck did this?”
The anger in her voice surprises me. I’ve never heard Macy say anything other than excited and chipper.
“I don’t know,” I manage. My voice sounds hollow. Distant.
“This is—“ Macy whirls around, scanning the square like the vandal might still be here. “This is not okay. This is—we need to call the police. We need to find out who did this and—and—” Her hands are fists at her sides. “I will personally find whoever did this and make them regret ever—”
“Macy.”
She looks at me, eyes blazing with a fierceness I’ve never seen from her before.
“We should call the police,” she says firmly. “This is vandalism. This is harassment. This is not okay.”
I should. I know I should.
I nod, pull out my phone. Hit send.
It rings once.
“Sadie?” A flicker of relief sparks in my soul.
“Mateo.”
“What’s wrong?” His tone sharpens immediately. He can hear it in my voice—whatever carefully held-together composure I have is obviously crumbling.
“Someone...” I look at the door again, then at my paint-covered hand. “Someone vandalized the shop.”
Silence.
Say something.
“Are you there now?”
“Yeah. I came down to check on things and—“
“Are you safe? Is anyone around?”
I scan the square. A few people in the distance, but no one close. No one is paying attention. “I’m fine. Macy’s here. But Mateo, they—“
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are. Don’t go inside alone.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
The line goes dead.
