Page 35 of Until Ace

They took the time to unscrew the fucking stools?

I release Ace’s hand and walk to my bedroom, dreading what I’ll find there. As soon as I push the ajar door open fully, I find that even my worst guess is the wrong one.

The sheets are crumpled in the corner, the mattress is half off the bed and slashed. Pillows are in the same state.

My clothes are torn and cut to pieces.

I walk across the hallway and look into the bathroom, seeing there’s more of the same chaos.

“No,” I whimper, going back to the living room and looking around again.

Everything I worked for is reduced to nothing. Nothing but a pile of trash.

There’s not one thing that can be salvaged.

I’m in such shock, I ask myself, Who would do such a thing? And why?

Even though I know exactly who and why.

“Give me a second,” I hear Ace talking to someone, but I don't look up from the horrific scene. I can’t stop looking at the space that used to be my sanctuary.

What will I do now?

Where will I go?

There's only one logical answer, but the mere thought sends me to a new level of despair.

The only thing I am grateful for is that Beverly and Ida aren’t home.

It’s bingo night at their local club.

A night they never miss.

So they weren’t home while all this was happening.

“Baby, we need to go.” Ace comes into my line of vision. “The police are here, and they need to look through to find something that will tell us who did this.”

Even though I have a good guess who did this, I don't voice my suspicion. I focus on the more important thing and frown. “The police?”

“Yeah, they're here.” He flicks his hand, and soon, people start milling around the apartment, talking in hushed voices and taking pictures.

A man comes over, and after introducing himself, he starts asking me questions. Through it all, Ace never leaves my side.

“I know this is all a shock, but I have only one more question,” the kind man, who I vaguely remember Ace telling me is his friend Cobi, says.

“I told you, we weren’t here,” Ace reminds him, but Cobi just glances at him, his mouth tightening before he continues.

“Do you know who could have done this?”

Instinctively, one name comes to mind, and the mere thought he could have anything to do with this tears my heart to shreds.

I don’t say it aloud, but the name is echoing in my head over and over.

Jim.

My brother.

He’s the one who did this to me.