Paul stared at the flames in the fireplace in stony silence.“Paul,” Lacey said. “Are you all right?”“Check the grow room,” he replied without turning away from the flames.Lacey headed down to the basement, opened the door, and was blinded by the glare of the lights. Once her eyes adjusted, she recognized the sabotage at once. As she cycled through the possible suspects, she also felt relief. With most of their income gone, wasn’t this a good time to get out?“I’m sorry,” Lacey said.In the glow of the fire, Lacey could see Paul’s eyes watering.“Forgive me for saying this,” she said, “but you seem more broken up about the loss of your plants than the loss of your best friend.”“People grieve in different ways.”“Do you know who did this?” Lacey asked.“If I did, do you think I’d be sitting here doing nothing?”“Probably.” She regretted the response the moment it escaped her lips. But it was the truth. Even as children, Paul’s response to a crisis was inertia.
