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The sun has already set when a middle-aged man comes up to us, introducing himself as Clark, the fire marshall.
“Anything?” Ringer asks.
“Well, we’re going to need a closer look at some things, but it almost seems as though there was a small explosive put into the microwave. When someone used the microwave, it exploded.”
I start to shake in Ringer’s arms. “An explosive? Like a bomb?”
The guy nods with a somber expression. “We checked the rest of the perimeter, and it seems like there were three different devices within the bakery. None of the other businesses were tampered with.”
Oh my god.
“Does that mean that they were there for me?” I ask no one in particular.
“No way in hell, babe. Who the hell would want to hurt you?” Ringer soothes me, rubbing his palm along my shoulder.
“We have the place cleared out. Everything checked out, and it’s safe if you guys want to enter the premises.”
I nod, letting Ringer pull me to my feet. I lean on him heavily and let him guide me across the street and into the bakery.
We get to the front. It seems the only damage is blown-out windows and soot caked on every surface.
I don’t even know who, but someone hands me a mask to protect me from the soot as I make my way inside.
Tears track down my cheeks as I take in the room. The wall between the storefront and the kitchen is completely burned, and the only things remaining are the metal support beams. I can walk straight through what used to be a wall. I throw the stupid mask to the side and kick the first thing in my way. Pain radiates through my leg from the impact, and I realize I’ve taken my frustration and anger out on one of the large, heavy stools.
“Fuck!” I scream. Dropping my head down into my hands, I lace my fingers in my hair, pulling at the roots as I scream in agonizing emotion.
A warm hand lands on my back gently before I’m taken into his strong embrace. His cologne engulfs me, and I’m thankful to smell something else instead of this horrible, charred mess.
I let Ringer lead me out of what once was my beautiful bakery and into a waiting car.
In the blink of an eye, I’m being pulled from the car and taken into another set of large arms. At the familiar smell of my dad’s aftershave, my entire body racks with sob after sob. I scream in frustration, and words tumble out of my mouth about my nana and how hard I worked for it only to be taken away from me.
My dad lets me beat against his chest as I work through the aching in my soul.
The fight leaves my body as I look into my dad’s green eyes.
“You done, baby girl?”
I sniffle one last time and nod. Deep down, I’m embarrassed about the way that I just acted, but at the same time, I’m a girl whose safe space has always been her dad. What other kind of response did anyone expect?
I wordlessly let Ringer lead me upstairs and straight into the shower, where he washes the tiny bits of soot off us and tenderly washes my hair.
Once we’re lying in bed, I roll over to face him. “I’m sorry.”
He pulls back, searching my face. “What are you sorry for?”
Now that the shock of everything has calmed down some, I’m truly embarrassed that he had to witness me acting like a child. “I may have overreacted.”
“No, you didn’t, babe. You’ve worked your whole life for that bakery. You’re allowed to be upset. We can fix it.”
“I think I’m upset because I don’t think it’ll ever be the same. That bakery was her dream.”
“Whose dream, babe?”
“Nana’s.”
Ringer’s arms tighten around me, pulling me across his chest. “I think you’re wrong.”
