Statistic by Dawn Robertson

alright. She is the tenant who lives here.” Paul comes out of the doorway towards me. He gives me a big, protective hug and asks if I am alright. My body is physically shaking and I am worried about everything I am going to see once I walk through the door into the place I have been calling home.
    “Sorry about that Miss…” the officer says.
    “Miss Alexander. Aurora Alexander.” I answer him, and Paul escorts me through the mess of a doorway.
    “Don’t worry about the door. I already have a friend over at the hardware store picking up the supplies to fix it.” Paul adds in, trying to reassure me the damage will be fixed soon. But I am still unsure if I will feel safe enough in this apartment. I want to run back to the home I once shared with Colin, but I already know that is not, and never will be, an option for me again.
    The kitchen is trashed. The vase of flowers from Wesley completely shattered all over the tiled stone flooring. Shards are scattered all over the black tile in every which way. The flowers are completely trashed, ripped apart as if someone deliberately targeted them. But nothing else in the kitchen is touched. Just the small romantic gesture.
    I walk like a zombie up the stairs to the bedrooms. Liam’s room is still closed, untouched as it was when I left this morning. I send another silent thank you up to the big guy in the sky, thanking him that Liam wasn’t home for this. He wouldn’t see the damage that has been done or lose his own sense of security in our new home. I have no choice but to stay in this house and pray no one comes back to finish whatever job they started. I couldn't shake Liam’s already upside down world.
    The door to my bedroom is open, and when I peer inside, I can see my drawers tossed haphazardly around the room. Clothes are everywhere, but nothing appears to be missing. What could they have been looking for?
    My heart hammers against my chest as my body breaks into a cold sweat. The weather outside may be steamy, but this isn’t anything more than my own terrified reaction. I’ve been targeted and I am unsure of why. Why me? What have I ever done to anyone?
    “Are you okay?” Jackson’s voice distracts me from the mess. I turn to find him standing in the doorway, carefully and quietly watching me like he doesn’t want to disturb me.
    “I’m fine. I just don’t get it.” I look around and run my fingers through my hair and wonder why someone would do this. I am sure it is a question that I am going to ask myself repeatedly for a really long time. I have never been a victim like this before. Yeah, I’ve been hurt by other people, but not in this manner. This… it is all just something else. Something that I will never understand.
    “Want some help?” he nods to the mess in the room. I don’t want to even be here anymore.
    “Not right now. I think I just want to get out of here for the night once the front door is fixed and the glass is all cleaned up. I don’t really feel safe being here alone.” I admit. I don’t want Jackson to see me as weak, but I also don’t know what else to say right now. Honesty is always best and I feel like I could tell him anything.
    “Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up and you can come back to my house for the night. I have a guest room you can use.” Jackson offers. “Pack up a little bag and we will worry about getting the rest of this all cleaned up tomorrow. Okay?”
    I really should call Callie and stay with her, but I just nod and go along with Jackson’s plan. I let him take charge because I think that is what I really need at this moment. I can’t make any decisions or even think straight.
    I grab some clothes and my bag of toiletries and toss them in my beach bag and head downstairs to the kitchen. The young looking police officer and Paul are standing there, both staring at me when I enter the room.
    “Miss Alexander? There is one more thing we need to show you before we can head out.” the officer