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“Now don’t you talk like that. There’s nothing you did wrong. Nothing wrong with you. Not one thing.”
I was too exhausted to argue, and it was useless anyway.
“Where is everyone?”
“They’re back at the hotel, ready to come over the minute you feel up to it.”
I was already shaking my head. “Tell them to go home. Tell them thank you, but they should go home.”
Because how can I ever look them in the eye again?
“Come on,” Bibi said. “Let’s get you a shower. Get some food in you. You need to eat. Then you’ll feel better and can think more clearly. When you’ve rested up, we can work out what to do about your shop—”
“My shop.” I scoffed. “There is no shop, Bibi.”
She pursed her lips, her expression harder than I’d ever seen it. “Now you listen to me, Shiloh. What happened last night was bad. Very, very bad. And you’re allowed to feel all kinds of ways about it. But you cannot give up. Do you hear me?”
Giving up sounded really good right about then. All the work I’d done—years’ worth—was teetering on the edge of a high cliff. Barely hanging on.
“My insurance is barebones,” I said. “It covers customer safety and theft, not vandalism. And the repairs, the clean-up…” I shook my head with a sour laugh. “It’s fitting, isn’t it? I worked my ass off for that shop to prove to Mama that I was worth something. That I could create something beautiful, and it was smashed and ruined and painted black, just like Mama’s life was that night. She was vandalized too.”
Bibi squeezed my hand tighter. “One step at a time. We’re going to get all this sorted out and made better. But first things first. Shower and food.”
I relented and stood on trembling legs. “Where’s Ronan?”
“He went back to the shop,” she said.
“God,” I muttered. “He’d better not spend his money—”
“Shiloh,” Bibi said sternly. “That boy loves you and wants to help. Let him.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “How can he love me, Bibi? Now that he knows… How can anyone love me?”
“Oh, honey…”
The enormity of it tried to get me but I couldn’t let it. Not yet. It was too much. Terrifying.
Bibi helped me into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and showered. After, she handed me a towel and walked with me back to my room. She’d laid out clean underwear and a short nightgown I wore in the summer. My sheets had been changed.
I dressed and climbed back into bed. Bibi brought a bowl of homemade black-eyed peas and collards soup.
“Had to keep myself busy and thought the soup would be easy on your stomach.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bowl. For Bibi’s sake, I had a few bites, and she was right, I felt slightly stronger. Strong enough to ask what I didn’t want to ask.
“What happened with Frankie? Was Ronan right?”
“I spoke with Detective Harris this morning. The police questioned him last night.”
“And?”
“Harris said they didn’t have probable cause to arrest him. He had an alibi—at home with his father all night.”
The soup wanted to come back up. I set the bowl on my nightstand.
“Shiloh…” Bibi said as I slunk under the covers and curled in a ball.
“I’m tired. I just want to sleep a little more, okay?”
