Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0196

Abby Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

I’m sitting in the sterile confines of the police station, the room buzzing with the noise of ringing phones

and chatter. I can’t help but fidget in my seat as the detective shifts across from me, jotting notes down

on a clipboard.

“So, you’re absolutely sure you can’t think of anyone who might want to harm you?” the detective, an

older man with a receding hairline asks, eyeing me over a stack of papers.

“Detective, if I had enemies, I’d be the first to tell you. I swear, I really can’t think of anyone.”

He nods, scribbling something down. “Alright. But keep your eyes open. This may just be a random

targeting, but it’s certainly not an accident. Call us if you think of something, or someone, who might

shed some light on this situation.”

“I will, thank you,” I say, standing up to leave. The tension in my shoulders eases just a bit as I make

my way out of the room. This whole experience is surreal, like some bizarre soap opera that I’ve

unwittingly become the star of.

David, my landlord, is waiting for me in the hallway, his usually cheerful face tight with concern. “Abby,

how did it go?”

“Fine,” I answer with a sigh. “They’re keeping an open investigation but don’t have any suspects yet.”

David rubs his temple. “I’ve arranged for maintenance to get started on repairs first thing in the

morning, but if you want to get a hotel room for a few days, I can cover the lodging expenses.”

I shake my head. “No, David, that’s kind of you, but I want to go home. I want to take care of my

belongings myself."

He looks puzzled. “Are you sure? The maintenance crew can—”

“I know, I know. But some of those things... they’re not just things, you know? They’re pieces of me. I

want to handle them.”

He nods, understanding washing over his features. “Alright, Abby. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” I say, giving him a small but appreciative smile.

I make my way back to my apartment, my heart heavy with a strange blend of relief and dread. As I

walk through the door, I survey the damage. It’s like someone took my cozy, sunlit space and dunked it

into a darkened, charred reality.

My eyes immediately go to the walls—they’ll definitely need a new coat of paint. And the smell of wet

wood and burnt paper fills the air.

But all in all, it’s not all that bad. It could be worse; far worse.

I decide to start with the living room, carefully lifting a pile of soaked books from the coffee table. I

arrange some of the more precious ones hanging on the backs of chairs in the kitchen, hoping that with

time, the air will dry them on.

Next, I move on to the photographs over the fireplace, or rather what’s left of them. It’s a bit

heartbreaking, having to throw away some of the photographs of happier times, but I try to cheer

myself up by telling myself that I can take more photos.

“I can do this,” I mutter to myself as I clutch a damp cloth and a bottle of cleaner. I’m about to tackle the

armchair—my favorite reading spot—and see if I can get the blackness out of it when the doorbell

suddenly rings.

I open the door, and my heart leaps straight into my throat. “Oh my god,” I gasp, stunned.

“Surprise!” they cheer in unison.

“What on Earth…?” I sputter, overwhelmed.

“When we heard what happened, we had to come,” Chloe says, holding up a container of lasagna that I

can smell from here.

“We’re here to rescue you from the drudgery of cleaning!” Leah adds, swinging a six-pack of wine

coolers. Reаd at Dramanovеls.com

“But guys, I can’t ask you to—”