“Are you okay?”

Grant kept his eyes down and simply shook his head. “Don’t do this. We love each other.”

Tina sighed, feeling a fleck of irritation eating into the sadness she felt. Grant never had learned how to take no for an answer.

“I’m sorry. But my feelings in this won’t change.”

“You’re lying.”

Tina’s eyes snapped up to meet his, and she saw Grant gazing at her calmly.

“You still love me. You’re hurt, and you don’t think you can get past it. But you can, Tina. We both know what you came from, how you’ve turned your life around. There isn’t anything we can’t get through together.”

“Grant…”

“When you change your mind, I’ll be waiting,” Grant said calmly. “And I promise I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”

Tina didn’t know what else to say that would convince him. She just stood there looking at him, and he turned and left.

***

Tina tossed and turned most of that night. Bette texted her to see how she was feeling and Tina texted back that she would see Bette tomorrow. She didn’t feel like discussing the fact that she had decided to break it off with her fiancé for good, and he had still managed to make her second-guess her choice somewhat. She fell into a fitful sleep that as interrupted by distant sirens screaming. She groaned into her pillow and punched it. There was never any traffic in Mercy. What practical reason was there for sirens? She dozed a little longer, and eventually woke up cranky, grateful that it was Sunday and she had nowhere to be.

The morning was gray and muggy, and when she peered out the window there seemed to be fog or sea-mist hanging in the air. Tina was brewing a pot of coffee and gazing mournfully at the daisies sitting in a vase on her kitchen table when there was an insistent, loud knocking on her door.

She glanced at the clock. It was too early for visitors. Frowning, she tied her robe tighter and went to her front door. Before she got there, another knock made her jump. She recovered herself enough to peer outside through the peephole in her front door. She was nothing less than stunned to see police officers standing on her porch.

She cracked open the door. “Yes?”

“Tina Miller?”

It wasn’t her real name, but the police didn’t need to know that. She opened the door wider as two young looking officers sized her up.

“Yes, officer, that’s me. Is something wrong?” Tina asked, instinctively holding her robe together at her neck. Her heart was beating so loudly, she felt sure the officers could hear it. She suddenly remembered the sirens earlier that morning.

Is it Grant? Is it Bette? Oh, no… it can’t be…

“I’m sorry to tell you this, ma’am, but there was a fire on the promenade this morning. A few stores were burned.”

Tina’s heart stopped and then dropped. “M-My shop? Is there anything left?” A sick clammy feeling spread over her. My shop…I invested everything I had into it…

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get dressed and come with us.”

“You’re going to take me there?”

“No, ma’am. We’re taking you to the department. We need to ask you a few questions.”

Tina’s knees felt weak and she held on to the doorjamb to keep from falling over.

“I don’t understand.”

“We think it was arson, ma’am. And we need to ask you a few questions.”