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25 - farewell

Dear Ellis, Everett,

I hope you receive this without being in a cell somewhere else in London. Thank you for not decapitating me, Ellis when I first told you that I know about your secret. And thank you, Everett, for fighting with him to get me into your team.

You're both great leaders. Never forget what you're standing for, what you're fighting for.

Sometimes you can make use of the past, turn it into a catalysator for your future, or you can have a relapse. Choose wisely. I know you're better than the grudge you hold.

Everett, you taught me a lot of things. How to view things from different perspectives, do things altruistically. Do it the same way in this case.

But it is the harsh truth that your father had always been the corrupted mastermind behind Alder Benson's doings. He might have changed his ideas later on - which probably caused his death in the end.

Lawson Walker had signed contracts with two different banks, and exploited people's taxes through them. He presented himself differently to you. But this could be because he didn't want you to turn into someone like him.

And don't. Please, don't.

W. Mitchell

~~~

It was the sight of a person's world coming to an end.

Esmé came to an abrupt halt, her throat lacing up suffocatingly. It was the fumes that caused her soul to drop, deserting her body. Clouds of smoke blew out of the back door of the kitchen. She stood frozen on her spot, her feet rooted into the ground, her eyes wide, her balled fists trembled by her side.

Was this how her biggest nightmare turned into reality? Had everything been for nothing? Was this her fate? Why let her live through all of it if it wasn't meant to change?

Everett put his hand on her lower back, slowly pushing her towards the building. Hadn't it been for his hold on her, her knees would have slacked, letting her collapse face front.

"Let's go." His voice was low, whispering close to her ear, yet she struggled to perceive it. His breath tickled her skin, but all she felt was the fumes engulfing her as she moved closer to the house.

Everett had said more than just that, but she didn't hear him. Sirens chimed in her mind as she followed his lead. He patiently guided her and kept his cold composure to give her strength.

With her lips pressed together and a blank look clear in her eyes, she stepped inside the kitchen.

It took Esmé a few moments to take in the scene. There was no fire, but the kitchen was drowning in smoke. Her eyes darted around nervously to spot a group of people sitting on the ground on the other side of the room.

"Oh my god," She mumbled, her voice shaking, her eyes feeling teary. She couldn't distinguish whether it was the dense smoke burning her eyes or whether she just felt like crying on the spot.

Esmé hurried anxiously, passing the counters, and Everett was close after her protectively, worrying about what she'd do. A gasp left her parted lips when she recognised the man crouching next to the Kents, Mr Schubert and-