Page 58 of Clear Shot

“I think this is going to be bad,” she whispers.

“Dammit. We should have come to check on things sooner… I thought we were doing a good deed by helping the community but—” I cut off abruptly as we get to my apartment.

Someone—probably Harvey—nailed a few 2x4’s across the entrance because the door is open, hanging at a weird angle.

“Need a hammer?” My elderly neighbor, Mrs. Moskowitz, appears with one and proffers it. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your place, Aiden.”

“Thanks, Millie.” I take the hammer and use it to pull off the 2x4’s so we can get inside.

“Oh, no.” Hana’s voice is a soft cry that reflects my own reaction to the mess we encounter.

There’s two inches of water on the floor, along with shards of glass from where the windows blew out, and all kinds of debris and garbage. Everything is wet, my leather couch destroyed, the TV smashed on the floor. Kitchen cabinets are open, some empty, some still full.

“You should probably start with what you can salvage,” Millie says gently, trailing behind us. “I have a box of things over at my place, that I grabbed right after the storm when I realized you weren’t here.”

“Thanks, Millie,” I respond gratefully.

“I think most of your fancy suits are ruined,” she says.

“Millie, have you met my wife?” I ask since I haven’t introduced them yet. “This is Hana. This is my neighbor, Millie.”

“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” Millie says, smiling over her shoulder. “But congratulations to both of you.” She points to a box. “That’s all I could grab that looked somewhat valuable. I wish there was more.”

“I appreciate that you thought of me at all.” I lift the box. “Thanks again. We’re going to go assess the damage and call my insurance company.”

She nods.

We walk back across the hall and I put the box on the table, peering inside.

Right on top is a silver picture frame I’ve never seen before.

There’s a picture of Hana and me from the day we first met, and after staring at it for a moment, I gently lift it out of the box.

“When did you do this?” I ask softly.

She comes to stand beside me. “When you left on the first road trip. I wanted to make the apartment feel more homey and I thought a picture of us…” Her voice drifts off and she dips her head. Almost as if she’s embarrassed.

“Honey.” I pull her against me, gently lifting her chin. “I love that you did that. Thank you.” I lightly kiss her. “I’m really glad Millie was able to save it.”

“What are we going to do?” she whispers, looking around. “We’ve lost…everything.”

“It’s just stuff,” I say quietly. “We’re safe, our friends and family are safe, and we have each other. Everything is going to be fine. I can buy new stuff.”

“It’s just so—” She looks around, her eyes filled with sadness. “—devastating.”

“Yeah. It is.” I wrap my fingers around hers. “Come on. Let’s go see if there are any clothes we can salvage.”

The bedroom fared better than the living room and kitchen, but not by much. The bed is damp but still intact, though I’m certainly not going to keep it, and the clothes in my dresser appear to be okay. Since the door to the walk-in closet was closed, everything that was hanging appears unscathed, but shoes and suitcases that were on the floor are ruined.

I can tell Hana is upset about the damage to her things but she’s trying her best to hide it.

“We can get you more shoes,” I say gently, since there are a dozen ruined pairs on the floor, along with a few of mine.

“Yes. I know.” She swallows. “But I saved up a long time for my Louboutins.”

“Your what?”

She shakes her head, looking at something on her phone. “It doesn’t matter. Johan just texted and said his house fared well, so they’ve invited us to stay with them.”