“There's nothing to fess up to,” I hiss through my teeth, standing. “This is all bullshit!”

Without thinking, I grab a nearby pillow and hurl it across the room in a fit of rage. The force of the impact knocks a fragile vase off a side table. It shatters into a thousand pieces on the floor.

“Shit,” I murmur, realizing what I've done.

In my frenzied state, I rush to clean up the shards of glass. But then, as I gather the scattered remnants, I accidentally cut my hand on a sharp shard.

A single drop of blood drips onto the floor, staining my white carpet.

Finally, defeated and emotionally drained, I collapse onto my knees on the floor, my tears flowing freely. Right now, I feel like the vase: broken, shattered, and angry.

However, as I sit there, sobbing, a sound breaks through the silence.

It's my phone ringing on the coffee table.

I sigh, wiping away the lingering tears, and drag myself up from the floor. As I approach the phone, I catch a glimpse of my disheveled reflection in the glass of the table, and I quickly run my fingers through my hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Then I see it: it's Karl, FaceTiming me.

I hesitate for a moment, taking in the name on the screen. For a moment, I consider not answering; but I know Karl, and I know he'll just keep trying until I finally cave. Sighing, I wipe my tears away with my sleeve and swipe to answer. I'm met with his concerned face.

“Hey,” I say, my voice shaky despite my attempts to sound normal.

Karl's brow furrows as he studies my face. “I saw the news,” he says without preamble. “Are you okay?"

“I'm fine.”

He doesn't buy it, not even for an instant. “I can tell you've been crying, Abby. Talk to me.”

I look away, my gaze falling to the shattered vase on the floor. There's no point in lying; Karl has always been able to tell when I'm upset. And besides, there's no hiding it now. My eyes are red- rimmed and swollen, my face still streaked with tears.

“The samples came back positive,” I manage, although my voice is shaking. “My restaurant might be shut down, Karl.”

Karl is silent for a few moments, processing, before he answers. “And the CCTV footage?” he asks.

I shrug. “They said they sent it in for analyzing. That was days ago, Karl. It's not looking good.”

His jaw clenches, and I can see a whole host of emotions flitting through his eyes. “Abby,” he finally says, “I'm worried. Those reporters... They're vultures. I think you should come here with me. Get out of the city for a little while.”

I glance toward the door, my heart sinking at the sight of the news vans and reporters still camped outside my house. “I might have to,” I say, my voice filled with resignation.

Karl seems distracted for a moment. I know his mind is preoccupied with his election, an election that I don't want to distract him from.

“Look, Abby,” he finally says. “I'm dealing with this election...”

“I don't want to distract you,” I interrupt.

But he shakes his head. “That's not what I was saying. I'm trying to say that, no matter what, I'm here for you. And if you need to come here, don't let this election or anything else stop you. Just say the word and I'll do whatever I can.”

His words make me soften. For a moment, we just look at each other, and I can feel my heart skip as I look into his soft brown eyes. Even through the phone screen, they look clear and gentle as ever. I'm just about to open my mouth to say something, to tell him that I want to leave and come stay with him

But before I can utter a word, a sudden noise outside catches my attention. Someone is knocking on my back door. I rush over to the kitchen window that looks out into the alley and peek through the blinds, my eyes widening as I see a police car parked out back.

I quickly turn back to the screen, my heart pounding. “Karl, I have to go,” I say, my voice trembling. He looks at me, concern etched into his features. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, I'm already hanging up the phone.

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