Kira alive.
Beckley rubbed a hand down his face and let out a gusty breath. “It’s an evil world out there. Us good people are just living in it.”
5
A s Aiden and I ambled down Beacon Street toward the Porcupine, our lunch destination, I kept thinking of what Danny Beckley had said about the world being an evil place.
The perception ate at me, gnawing painfully. I knew many good people, but on the whole, were we surrounded by evil? Some days it felt that way.
Days like today.
Especially as we neared the Porcupine, which was housed on the first floor of the Valentine, Inc. building.
“Jesus,” Aiden whispered as we neared.
Grateful for my crutches to lean on, I gazed at the building. It was my first time back since the fire two days ago.
The Porcupine, fortunately, had been spared from the flames, thanks to the fire-proofed walls. A little cleaning, and it had been good to go. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the building.
As a hot breeze blew down the sidewalk, the scent of smoke was nearly overwhelming. Across the street, at the Common, people walked dogs, ate picnic lunches, played Frisbee. So normal when life for me right now seemed anything but.
Yellow caution tape was stretched across a piece of plywood that covered the scorched doorway leading to the upper floors of the building. Soot darkened the brick façade of all three levels, and the windows above us had been sealed with plywood as well—some broken to fight the fire, others broken in a fight for life.
In my mind’s eye, I could easily imagine the first floor vestibule. The cherry-wood stairs with an elaborately carved bannister. The old-fashioned elevator.
And just as easily as I imagined what it used to look like, I could picture it how I’d last seen it. The flames. The heavy smoke. Charred wood. Embers glowing. The face of evil.
The second and third floors were slightly better off than the first—heavily smoke damaged, but the flames had been mostly contained by the time they reached the upper levels. Some structural work would be needed—and a complete fire restoration.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, more to myself than to Aiden.
The building was more than a hundred years old. History had been lost with the destruction of the old craftsmanship, but my parents would do all they could to preserve what remained. No matter what, renovations were sure to be extensive. I had no idea when we’d be getting back to work.
Right about now, I rather missed my job as a matchmaker. I, along with Sean, ran Lost Loves, which focused on reuniting (appropriately) lost loves. Between Sean’s PI work and my psychic abilities we had a good track record going, and it was often rewarding. Seeing people fall in love all over again was something I never took for granted. That kind of joy was hard to come by in this world, which made me yearn for it that much more. Happiness was possibly the best weapon to battle the world’s evils.
But, of course, reuniting lost loves wasn’t the only way to find joy. It was everywhere if one looked for it. Even here. In the shadows of this charred, scarred building. It was in the sense of renewal. Of survival. Of knowing what was truly important in life.
It wasn’t things. Not fancy old elevators or carved woodwork.
It was people.
Good people.
My gaze swung to the restaurant, and through the big plate-glass windows I could see Raphael, my surrogate father of sorts, busily wiping off a counter as his fiancée Maggie took an order.
I tugged on Aiden’s sleeve to get his attention. “Let’s go in.”
He held the Porcupine’s door open for me. Cool air swirled as I crutched inside. Even though it was a little early for lunchtime, the restaurant was packed. Raphael glanced up from wiping the counter and a smile spread across his face, his slightly-crooked teeth flashing bright against his olive skin. Soft wrinkles spread from the corners of his brown eyes as they filled with happiness.
This . This
Beckley rubbed a hand down his face and let out a gusty breath. “It’s an evil world out there. Us good people are just living in it.”
5
A s Aiden and I ambled down Beacon Street toward the Porcupine, our lunch destination, I kept thinking of what Danny Beckley had said about the world being an evil place.
The perception ate at me, gnawing painfully. I knew many good people, but on the whole, were we surrounded by evil? Some days it felt that way.
Days like today.
Especially as we neared the Porcupine, which was housed on the first floor of the Valentine, Inc. building.
“Jesus,” Aiden whispered as we neared.
Grateful for my crutches to lean on, I gazed at the building. It was my first time back since the fire two days ago.
The Porcupine, fortunately, had been spared from the flames, thanks to the fire-proofed walls. A little cleaning, and it had been good to go. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the building.
As a hot breeze blew down the sidewalk, the scent of smoke was nearly overwhelming. Across the street, at the Common, people walked dogs, ate picnic lunches, played Frisbee. So normal when life for me right now seemed anything but.
Yellow caution tape was stretched across a piece of plywood that covered the scorched doorway leading to the upper floors of the building. Soot darkened the brick façade of all three levels, and the windows above us had been sealed with plywood as well—some broken to fight the fire, others broken in a fight for life.
In my mind’s eye, I could easily imagine the first floor vestibule. The cherry-wood stairs with an elaborately carved bannister. The old-fashioned elevator.
And just as easily as I imagined what it used to look like, I could picture it how I’d last seen it. The flames. The heavy smoke. Charred wood. Embers glowing. The face of evil.
The second and third floors were slightly better off than the first—heavily smoke damaged, but the flames had been mostly contained by the time they reached the upper levels. Some structural work would be needed—and a complete fire restoration.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, more to myself than to Aiden.
The building was more than a hundred years old. History had been lost with the destruction of the old craftsmanship, but my parents would do all they could to preserve what remained. No matter what, renovations were sure to be extensive. I had no idea when we’d be getting back to work.
Right about now, I rather missed my job as a matchmaker. I, along with Sean, ran Lost Loves, which focused on reuniting (appropriately) lost loves. Between Sean’s PI work and my psychic abilities we had a good track record going, and it was often rewarding. Seeing people fall in love all over again was something I never took for granted. That kind of joy was hard to come by in this world, which made me yearn for it that much more. Happiness was possibly the best weapon to battle the world’s evils.
But, of course, reuniting lost loves wasn’t the only way to find joy. It was everywhere if one looked for it. Even here. In the shadows of this charred, scarred building. It was in the sense of renewal. Of survival. Of knowing what was truly important in life.
It wasn’t things. Not fancy old elevators or carved woodwork.
It was people.
Good people.
My gaze swung to the restaurant, and through the big plate-glass windows I could see Raphael, my surrogate father of sorts, busily wiping off a counter as his fiancée Maggie took an order.
I tugged on Aiden’s sleeve to get his attention. “Let’s go in.”
He held the Porcupine’s door open for me. Cool air swirled as I crutched inside. Even though it was a little early for lunchtime, the restaurant was packed. Raphael glanced up from wiping the counter and a smile spread across his face, his slightly-crooked teeth flashing bright against his olive skin. Soft wrinkles spread from the corners of his brown eyes as they filled with happiness.
This . This
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