Chapter 172

Almara’s Pov

I lay on the leather couch scrolling on my phone with Grace asleep in the crevice of my arm. This would be a perfect lazy Sunday afternoon, if not for the horrible things I’m seeing on social media.

The fire at the orphan center is the top trending story which I suppose make sense. It is a horribly depressing story. The only good news is that absolutely no one was hurt. The worse news is conspiracy theorists are blaming us. Of course.

I should probably care more than I do, but I’m still riding the high of having Grace back. I peel my eyes away from my phone and sniff the top of her head and take in a long inhale. Instantly my jaw unclenches and my muscles loosen.

I go back to scrolling, trying to make sense of this story. I look at the photographs and see a building torched and other pictures just show the ashes.

The fact that this was a building from the lost and abandoned has now become itself a pile of rubble is a gloomy realization. It’s like loss piling on top of loss.

Still, selfishly I can’t help but question of all the times for a hazard to happen in that old building, why did it have to be when we went? Trolls online are running wild with ideas that the Covington’s have snapped and the next war won’t be with vampires, but with institutions.

As much as our government system has infuriated me, they were only doing their job- as heartless as possible, but they can’t full be blamed. Really the one we ought to start a war with is whoever gave Maurice-Janice her counseling certificate.

“Would you put your phone down?” Arthur asks while playfully trying to snag my phone out of my hands. He’s not the least bit concerned what people are saying, though I think Roman might have something different to say about that.

“Why is it tragedy seems to follow us?” I ask, suddenly filled with a sense of self-pity. Arthur lets out a sigh.

“I guess it comes with the fame.” In the same breath he adds, “I would hardly call the fire a tragedy. I mean no one got hurt and you saw the building- it was in shambles. At least with money from the insurance they might be able to rebuild it nicer.”

The other plus side is the fire burned up the papers that Reese brought indicating the Court of Orphans has to release Grace to her biological parents until a proper court investigation of the home can be done and a jury finds us unfit. Which means our hearing is delayed.

Arthur comes to sit next to me on the couch. He sinks into the brown leather sofa with a sigh. He looks incredibly handsome in a simple white cotton tee that hugs his biceps and a pair of light blue jeans. I admire how he can look attractive in a million-dollar tailored suit and a plain dad-outfit.

I look back at my phone, I know I need to put it down but something about the whole story feels off. Why did this happen? I can’t wrap my head around it. Then I see something that makes my blood run cold.

“Arthur,” I say hesitantly.

“What is it?” He asks knitting his thick eyebrows together.

“They just found the cause for the fire.” I lift my eyes over my phone to meet Arthur’s. “A cigarette.” I say. Arthur takes my phone and I let him see the news release for himself. “You don’t think- I mean that couldn’t have been- was it?” I can’t finish any of these thoughts.

“That idiot.” Arthur says, confirming who I was already thinking about. Reese. But, the way Arthur condemns Reese is more than an abstract general assessment, it’s like he’s blaming Reese for deliberately messing something up.

“So, you think Reese did burn down the building?” I ask, carefully exempting the word ‘accidentally’. Arthur tilts his head back and grunts.

“I know he did. I told him to.” Arthur says widening his eyes up toward the ceiling. I want to jump out of the couch, but Grace holds me back so instead my legs give a sudden jerk.

“What?” is all I can manage. “Why would you do something like that?” I ask, slowly sitting up and moving Grace to the bassinet. Arthur just grimaces and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Arthur.” I snap. “Talk to me. Why would you do that?”

“I knew no one would get hurt. Remember how quiet it was when we walked into the building? I made sure no children or adults would be inside.” He says, hardly answering my question.

“From the beginning.” I instruct him and sit next to him on the couch so our knees are touching.

“After we made the initial phone call scheduling us to come in, I called them back and expressed,” he pauses as he finds the right word, “concern, that we may have a crowd trailing behind us. Which isn’t completely a lie.”

Arthur rubs his hands together. “But I suggested it be best if no one was in the building for the sake of privacy for the children. Maybe they all take a trip to get icecream on me. Everyone except Grace that is.” Kelly agreed and that’s how I knew it would be empty.

“So, you knew by this point you we’re going to set the fire.” I say.

“I was so mad that they thought they could just do this and when the PI told us that Maurice or Janice or whatever her name is, never gets caught- I just couldn’t imagine her sending another innocent child to a place like this just because she’s demented.”

While I completely share in Arthur’s rage, I wish he included me in this. “So, I spoke to Reese and he actually suggested the idea. He said he knew how to make it look like an accident.” Arthur shrugs. “I mean the cigarette will be ruled an accident, and it’s not on our hands.”

I wrap my head around what he’s saying. I think back to when Kelly asked where the crowd us and how I found that to be an odd question to start with, but I didn’t think much about it.

I suppose Arthur’s right that while technically our paws are clean, I don’t know if the conspiracy theorists will totally see it that way. As far as the public is concerned, the only reason someone was there smoking was because he was with us.

I shake my head. “What if this prevents us from keeping Grace? What if Reese says you two had planned the fire.” I ask, panic rising in my voice. Arthur grabs my hands to steady me.

“Then it’s his word against ours. Besides, the court can only go based off the evidence and we were both inside with Grace when the alarms sounded. We can’t be held responsible for what Reese ultimately decided to do.” Arthur says and I start to feel better.

He’s right. Legally we can’t be held responsible, socially. . . I glance at my phone, who knows.