Heterodox (BOOK 2)

Chapter 1

~Finley~

"Don't you think that's a bit farfetched, Finley?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

Refusing to answer his question, I go off to find someone who would listen to my theory without doubt. Maybe somebody like Mathias. At least he would give it a thought without shutting me down so quickly. Disappointed, I march among the forensics, firemen and the news reporters of 24 Hours with Ethan in hot pursuit.

Oh how the roles have reversed.

"I still think otherwise, Finn," he argues, "U.N.O never did a thing like this before."

"And your point is?" I swerve left, disposing of my empty coffee cup in a nearby bin, not slowing my pace. Not really sure where I'm going. "It's U.N.O we're talking about. A group that does crazy stunts all over the city. Stunts that just sugar coat crime to the public eye-"

"The stunts were minor offences, Finley."

"Minor offences that became major crimes, Ethan."

I stand in front of the fountain. The fountain is a plain mess. It was once white and smooth, Fleming's features clearly defined. It was always clean, Vixen Vale's own costly monument that stood with boldness, over-watching any that sat under it. A place of comfort where you could tell secrets and not worry that Fleming will betray you. It was even believed to grant wishes. It was a statue of miracles.

Now, it is black and charred. Fleming no longer has that erect nose, the sculptor's pride. Neither the silent but furious expression. Sooty black and it appeared that one touch can make it crumble underneath your fingers. The statue of miracles will crumble underneath your fingers.

Where will the children go to make a wish?

Who will listen to the secrets of the burdened heart?

Will anybody remember how Vixen Vale began when they look at the sooty statue?

"It's gone," I whisper, struggling not to ease a tear or two. The place that played a key part of my growth. Where Fleming was the only thing that looked like a fatherly figure. He was all that I imagined my father to be. Strong. Silent. Patient.

The only thing was that Fleming never displayed was real anger that can actually change the outcome of events in life.

Ethan didn't seem to care. "Take a look at all of the stunts that U.N.O pulled off. All of them indeed had a cover that covered their offences. The umbrella shower was widespread littering. The galaxy pool is deemed vandalism. The mural as well. They all had a flare."

I wipe the tear from my eye, irritated. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying you're right but also wrong. All of them had flare except this one. They just lit the statue on fire. There is no flare. Nothing to motivate. No originality. Just a simple crime." You could almost see the clicking in his mind.

Mine was starting to do the same thing. "You're ... right. But what other possibility is there exactly? This was planned. Fuel was found drizzled around it, their name was literally burning right in front of us."

Ethan runs his hands through his blond hair, frustrated and evidently tired. The dark rings under his eyes are enough evidence of stressing through the night.

I take his silence as a sign, knowing exactly what he was thinking. I question it. Who in their right mind would take U.N.O's place with the risk of having the police on their tail?