Xena''s POV


    "What did you see, X?" Logan asked.


    I examined the car carefully, my heart racing while my brain remained eerily calm, analyzing everything before me. "The bullet that hit Ryder came through the car body, and it was from a different gun. The hole is bigger." My voice was steady, but inside I was churning, a terrible theory gradually taking shape. "Almost like they wanted to kill Ryder first, then it would be easier to get me. Ryder and I could have easily handled three Rogues. This seems like their n B, and not a very thorough one. They could have


    attacked me in the shop for better results."


    I walked toward the windshield, shes of memory from my body hitting the ss reying in my mind.


    "Looking at this angle, the gun that hit Ryder was fired from the rooftop. I bet they knew


    he would protect me, so he became an easy target. This attack was to get him into


    position." The thought made me sick, my stomach twisting into knots. Why would


    someone want me? There was nothing special about me. I couldn''t shoot fire from my


    hands orsers from my eyes. I couldn''t fly or freeze water. I was just an ordinary person


    with above-average intelligence. Why? What was my value?


    "Then I guess we''re lucky they only fired once," Benedict said, crossing his arms. Logan''s phone rang. He walked away to answer it.


    "He could have killed us when we were walking out," Ryder said quietly.


    My brain worked quickly, analyzing possibilities. "Those windows are tinted, so you can''t see inside. I''m guessing he wasn''t ready, and that was his only option." My eyes returned


    to the car hood. There were smudges of blood on it.


    "Xena." Logan''s tone plus his use of my full name worried me.


    "What is it?" I nced at Ryder. His expression was unreadable.


    "It''s... it''s the shop. Someone broke in and trashed it. Police are there now."


    My jaw dropped. I sighed, what wasing had finally arrived. Even though the shop was my heart and soul, my everything, after losing Samuel, I seemed to have be numb.


    "X?" Logan asked worriedly.


    I took a deep breath. "Take me there," I demanded, my voice low.


    Logan looked at Ryder with concern. "Maybe it''s best if-"


    "If you don''t finish that sentence, either you drive me there or I''ll drive myself," I said


    angrily.


    Logan sighed. “Let''s go.”


    I followed Logan, with Rydering along, walking beside me.


    On the way to the shop, I remained silent. Ryder tried to hold my hand, but I pushed him


    away. It wasn''t that I didn''t want hisfort, but if anyone touched me, I would lose myposure. My emotions were like a ticking time bomb-the slightest contact could


    trigger an explosion.


    When we arrived, police had already surrounded it. It was marked with yellow caution


    tape.


    "This is a bad idea," Ryder whispered to Logan.


    "I know. She''s barely keeping it together, and yes, there''s a threat to her life."


    I heard them talking, but my thoughts had already drifted. The shop was my pride, proof


    of


    my achievements, something I had created. Every customized bike had a piece of my


    soul in it. And now...


    All the ss in the shop was shattered, broken pieces covering the sidewalk, the door in tatters, and inside looked like aplete mess. I thought I would take it in stride, but


    seeing it in person, I couldn''t control the anger inside me.


    Walking forward, a police officer tried to stop me.


    "You can''t pass this point!"


    "That''s my business! That''s my shop!" I could feel my anger growing, like an


    uncontroble me inside me.


    "Pleasee in. Be careful."


    "They''re with. me," I said, letting Ryder and Logan enter with me.


    I walked to the shop entrance, looking at the building across the street, calcting


    the angle of the shot, my brain automatically going into analysis mode.


    "Logan, the shooter was on that building," I pointed to the medium-sized structure, my


    voice still lifeless.


    "Are you sure?"


    "Are you doubting me?" I asked, a sharp edge to my voice.


    "No."


    "What''s going on?" Ryder asked as he approached us.


    "The shooter was from that building over there," Logan said quietly.


    "She figured that out?”


    "Yes," Logan answered.


    Again, I ignored them, walking into the shop. Everything was destroyed. The wall had messy ck spray paint, my chairs, my tool cart were broken, countless parts scattered on the floor. I walked to the customization area, the floor had holes, all the lights were shattered on the ground, the motorcycle stands were reduced to scrap metal, and the Brembo brake pads I had ordered four months ago were in pieces. I walked to the counter and saw fragments of my portfolios.


    The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, and I bent down to pick up the scraps of paper, tears falling one by one onto the fragments as I struggled to contain the sound of my sobs echoing through the shop. I didn''t even notice Ryder bending down to help me collect the pieces until I touched his fingers.


    This was my blood and sweat, my dreams and future. Every item held a story, every corner contained a memory. Seeing it all destroyed felt like a part of me had died too.


    "Xena Harris?" A deep male voice appeared. I wiped away my tears and looked


    up. It was a strong middle-aged man in a police uniform.


    "Yes," my voice sounded strange, as if it wasn''t my own.


    "I have a few questions. When was thest time you were here?"


    "Yesterday afternoon."


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