No life was lost to the blaze that consumed the yet-to-be-named Château.
Yet the blackened skeleton of what was meant to be her first home, her escape from the cruelty of the world, weighed heavily on Rhea's heart.
Her very first gift from Augustus, gone in the strike of a match.
The police took their statements, or lack thereof, and that of their aides who had thankfully been on a stroll when the blaze started.
Though it was discovered what had started the blaze — a rag soaked in lighter fluid, stuffed into a crack in the kitchen's window — the investigators could not, however, determine who was behind it just yet.
One thing was certain: whoever had started the fire had very much intended that Rhea and her Ladies would be in their beds, fast asleep when it happened.
Rhea knew who was behind it, a strong enough idea that rooted deep into her and fuelled the anger blooming in her heart.
