It was during the height of the summer that the seaside air was freshest, though sticky, and Jaina's white tank was sticking to her back as she ran alongside the beach, little puffs of sand kicking up into the air as her shoes sunk and then sprung free from it.

On any other day, Jaina wouldn't considering herself a morning runner. It was only six and the sun was barely rising – only a hint of peach along the horizon at that point. But she would consider herself an insomniac, and after her fifth loop around the bedroom, pacing restlessly, she had decided to put her energy to decent use, dressing and slipping out the door and into the cool dawn air.

The beach itself stretched out seemingly infinitely: from where Jaina was at that moment, it stretched miles onward. She'd already been at it for half an hour, and every mile she went was one she'd have to run back. Spotting the set of concrete stairs that led to the parking lot looking over the beach, she slowed to a walk, skipping up them and tapping the damp sand from her shoes when she reached the pavement at the top. The lot was, of course, empty, and her shoes were almost silent against the smooth asphalt.

As the sun broke over the horizon, Jaina felt a yawn bubble up in her throat, and snorted wryly – how convenient. There would be no sleep when she got back to the house – Jaina was not an only child, and her only sister was a year older than her at eighteen. Matty Gray had graduated the week previously, and since their parents had departed on their European cruise, it had been on long graduation party at the house. Jaina didn't particularly mind as long as her room was locked when she left and nothing was broken that couldn't be fixed. Matty was notoriously good at covering her tracks, and Jaina had no doubt that she'd pull through just in time to appear clean and drug free, house spotless, before their parents got home in three weeks.

It was a long stretch of time ahead, however, and the cupboards would run out of edible food long before then. It was entirely possible that Jaina would run out of patience before then as well, but only time would tell for sure.

Picking up her pace again, Jaina broke into a determined run, the pavement a jarring contrast against the soft resistance the sand had provided. There were few cars that passed in the twenty minutes it took her to get into the center of town, and those who did pass ignored her completely.

Breakfast wasn't sounding too bad at that point. Six forty five, according to her phone. Jaina had been running for an hour now. That was probably enough.

Lola's was a little retro eatery always open for breakfast, and it was merely a block up from where Jaina was entering downtown. It and the coffee hut by the gas station were the only things open this early, not that Jaina blamed everywhere else for remaining closed – if she could sleep, she'd be doing so at that moment.

The bell jingled when she entered. The smell of cooking pancakes and strong coffee assaulted her nose, 'Crimson and Clover' playing audibly from the speakers at each corner. The only other people were the waitress – chatting animatedly with the cook -, an old man reading a paper in a corner booth, and two men seated at the counter, one sipping coffee pensively and the other glancing up towards Jaina as she walked past, sliding into a booth with a view of the entire main street.

''Coffee, kid?'

''Please.''

A steaming mug was placed in front of her, along with a handful of creamers, which she happily began to tear open and dump into the liquid, along with a couple of sugar packets.

It was a perfectly average early morning. There was no reason why anything strange should occur. But Jaina didn't see the gun until the shot was fired, and what sounded like an armful of dishes crashed to the floor, accompanied by a scream.

Whipping her head away from the window and her coffee so quickly her neck cracked in protest, something shook the table, and it only took her a half second to realize it was a head, cracking against the tabletop before sliding to the floor. It was the body of the man whose gun had just taken his own life.

The waitress was doing enough screaming for everyone in the restaurant, but Jaina felt her lungs seemingly empty of air, and her head spin for a few seconds before an hand grasped her arm, pulling her away from the booth and out towards the counter.

The cook was out of the kitchen and standing before the body, staring between it and the counter with numb disbelief. The old man from the corner had folded his paper and was handling a cell phone with surprising dexterity, placing what could only be assumed was a 911 call.

Jaina's arm was still in possession of the other man at the counter – the one who had glanced up upon her entering.

He was pulling his sleeve down over his hand, and Jaina watched, uncomprehending, as he reached down and rubbed at a spot on her thigh.

''You had a bit of...'' he gestured towards the body, ''you know. Blood.''

Maybe it was the lack of sleeping finally getting to her. Sirens were piercing the morning air and Jaina saw flashing lights screech to a halt outside of the diner.

''Did you know him?''

The door slammed open, and the cavalry entered. The man shook his head. ''Never seen him before in my life.''

Jaina's cup of coffee had spilled all across the tabletop at some point during the chaos. EMTS crowded around the body, and police officers zoned in on the hysterical waitress and the old man, demanding information. Jaina stood silently with her mysterious companion, arms folded, heart still fluttering erratically from the early run and the horrific excitement. Hell of a way to start the morning – but then, it was a Monday.