Chapter 34
MAEVE
The air is damp. Silent. Still laced with the copper tang of blood and the stench of rot and old electricity.
I pull him into my lap, cradling his weight the way he once held me in the shadows.
Not Asher. Not Caleb.
Just him.
The body that held them both. Still warm, but unmoving. I cup his face with trembling hands, the colour in his cheeks fading fast. Oh god, his lips are turning grey. It’s too soon. Please, no. He can’t leave me. We haven’t even lived yet.
Our lives have been an echo of what they should have been, always shadowed by the ghosts of Thornhaven Orphanage and what it meant to grow up here.
Please . . . please just give me more time.
The last word Asher spoke still echoes in my head.
Caleb.
He gave me Caleb. If only for a minute.
And now they’re both gone, leaving me alone once again.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, rocking him against me like I can keep him tethered to this world with just the movement. “You don’t get to die, do you hear me? Not after everything.” Tears streak my face, blurring my vision, but I’m not leaving without them.
I can’t. I won’t.
His chest doesn’t rise. His mouth doesn’t curve up in that smirk Asher always wore. Or that smile Caleb would give me when he thought I wasn’t watching.
He looks peaceful, though. Like he found relief in dying for me. But he should be here, fighting with me instead. He deserves to see this place burn once and for all. That way, maybe we’ll finally be free.
He’ll be free.
I swipe at the filth and blood covering my face. “You stupid bastard.” My voice cracks. “You selfish, brave, impossible bastard.” I press my forehead to his, breathing him in. “I’m not ready. I can’t do this without you. Without either of you.”
I love them. More than I’ve loved anything in my life. They showed up when I needed them most, giving me the strength I thought I’d lost, the part of me I buried in darkness.
Even before that, we were intertwined in the most despicable of ways, yet that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we found each other again.
It was inevitable.
We were inevitable.
I remain fractured, holding him. What’s left for me now? Nothing. Just the cold, and the shadows that haven’t left my side in ten years.
I sit for what feels like minutes. Or hours. I don’t know.
The dining hall extends beyond us, nothing but a skeleton of what it once was. Charred beams from Asher’s last attempt to destroy this place still hold the structure up. Broken tables and chairs litter the old floorboards. There are even food trays still sitting in piles on the old stainless kitchen bench.
A small sound stirs inside me. Not a voice, not quite.
A pulse.
Bethany.
She’s here, just beneath my skin. Not pushing, not taking over. Just waiting. Because now it’s my turn to show them what I’ve become. What I’ve always been.
Sniffing, I trace the edge of his jaw. Then lower, just beneath his throat, to his shoulder, upper arm. The skin there—a scar—is rougher.
Teeth marks.
A sharp pain lances through my head, and I clutch at the throbbing burst of electricity. A memory flickers, mine, but not mine.
The scent of smoke fills my nostrils. The warmth of a firm hand in mine pulling me forward.
It’s Asher’s hand, his eyes wild, determined.
I remember now. That night, when we ran, when he tried to shove me ahead. Told me to go without him. I bit him, sank my teeth into his arm like he was oxygen, and I was drowning. I didn’t know what else to do. I just needed him to stay.
And he did. He waited for me to find my way back to who I was—who I am.
What I am.
“I won’t leave you.” My voice cracks as I press my lips to his forehead. “Never.”
I flick the lid from Asher’s lighter—the one he pressed into my hand like a goodbye—and strike the metal wheel. A flame dances before me, stuttering in the cool breeze wafting in through the broken windows.
This is it.
I’m going to finish what Asher attempted to do all those years ago—burn this fucking place to the ground.
I stagger to my feet, blood and dirt clinging to my skin like a stain I’ll never wash off. My arms tremble from dragging him, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not until this place is nothing but smoke and ruin.
I glance back at him, motionless and pale. A trail of blood arcs behind us like a final tether I’m too afraid to sever.
Did they finally find peace together? A small, wistful smile lifts the corners of my lips. I hope so.
Dark grey drapes still hang from the windows, now faded and moth-eaten. Old files litter the floor, strewn about like an afterthought. A spill of chemicals glisten near an overturned barrel in the corner. From the smell, my guess is kerosene.
But it’s perfect. The perfect fuel to ignite what should have burned to the ground years ago.
I rip a section of material from the window, the fabric tearing easily, filling my nostrils with dust and mildew. A broken off table leg catches my attention, and I snatch it up, twisting the section of drape around one end to form a makeshift wick. It just needs one more thing—fuel.
My feet carry me to the puddle, and I stop at the edge, staring down at my reflection. This is it, the reason I’m still standing.
Without hesitation, I dip the fabric end into the puddle, saturating it in kerosene. My hands shake as I flick the lighter once more.
The flame wavers, almost hesitant.
“You’re not alone,” Bethany murmurs.
For a second, I swear I feel him. A smirk. A smile. A spark of both. My guess is, I always will.
I hold the flame to the soaked fabric, and in an instant, the fire catches, hungry and fast, rushing over the fabric like a starved beast. Without a second thought, I launch the fire ball into the remaining puddle of fuel.
“Watch me, James,” I whisper, stepping back as the fire spreads like tendrils and climbs up walls. “Watch me burn it all.”
The flames lick at the edges of my vision, casting an eerie orange glow across the room. The heat intensifies, but I barely feel it through the numbing grief.
I stumble back towards Caleb, and drag him towards the exit, my muscles screaming in protest. The old floorboards creak and groan, threatening to give way at any moment.
Smoke scorches my throat, and I cough, tears mingling with the ash covering my face. The fire spreads rapidly, as if alive, devouring decades of secrets.
Thornhaven Orphanage is finally falling.
A shadow moves through the haze. My chest tightens.
James emerges, his face contorted, his eyes wild as he glances around at what I’ve done. His composure is singed, his once-immaculate facade unravelling.
“Keep moving, Maeve,” Bethany urges. “Go.”
“You ungrateful little bitch.” James lunges forward, his footsteps unsteady against the warped floorboards. “After everything I’ve done for you. You’d destroy it all? For them? I’m your blood, Maeve. You belong at my side.”
James’s words cut deeper than any knife, sparking Bethany to unleash a torrent of memories. We suffered through years of neglect, abuse, and manipulation, all at the hands of this man who cares more about profits than his family.
The flames roar louder, as if feeding on my pain, and I recoil from him, my arms slipping from Caleb’s limp form.
I tighten my hold again, my lungs burning with each ragged breath. “Everything you’ve done?” I scream, my voice ripping through the crackling inferno. “You abandoned me. You tortured me. You let this place break me, and now you dare call it love?”
His face twists into a sneer, his eyes wild. “I made you strong. Stronger than anyone else. Look what you’re capable of. This power? It’s because of me.”
A beam crashes down between us, showering us with sparks and embers. I throw myself over Caleb, shielding him, the heat searing my skin. I cry out, letting the pain rush through me, fuelling my hatred.
Through the smoke, James stumbles backwards, coughing, disoriented. The floor buckles beneath him, just slightly.
“Power?” A strangled laugh rips through me, carrying years of pain and anger. “You think breaking me made me strong? You think your cruelty is the reason I survived?”
“You’ve always been weak,” James yells, stepping over the debris, hunting me, just like he’s done all these years. Only this time, we’re face-to-face where I can witness him twisting the knife in. “That’s why you needed Bethany.” His voice wavers. “She was your strength, just as Asher was Caleb’s. She was the best part of you.”
“Bethany is me!” The truth resonates deep within, a cold, sharp clarity piercing through my panic. A soft, satisfied hum echoes through my mind. “She always was. You didn’t create her, James. You don’t get to take credit for her.”
The old man clenches his hands at his sides. The floor beneath his feet groans again, and he throws his arms out to balance himself.
My foot connects with something metal, and I glance down. The gun. In my rush to save Asher, I’d forgotten all about it. Bending, I pick it up, turning it over in my hands.
Asher made it look so easy when he fired it at the guard’s head, no hesitation. Is it really that simple?
Let’s see shall we.
I lift the gun and aim it directly at James’s chest. This is the last time I’m ever going to stare into those cold eyes.
James throws his hands up. “Now, Maeve, think about what you’re doing. Let’s not get carried away.”
A slow smile creeps onto my lips, and a flicker of recognition crosses his features.
This is the end. He knows it.
My finger wraps around the trigger, and I squeeze. Power surges through my arm as the gun gives a little kick, the bullet piercing the air as if in slow motion. I track its trajectory, right until it punctures through James’s torso, sending him stumbling backwards.
A deep crack splits the air as the floorboards give way, and James crashes to his knees, clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. He claws at the edge of the broken timber with his free hand, flames licking at his legs like they’re tasting before they devour.
Our eyes lock, his wide with something I can’t place—regret, desperation, or perhaps just fear of the unknown. But it’s too late for apologies, too late for redemption. I hope his death is as painful as he made my life.
“Maeve,” he screams, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames. “Don’t do this. I can make you stronger. Together, we can finish what Evelyn couldn’t.”
I step closer, my breath catching in my throat. A part of me, a small, broken part, wants to reach for him, to pull him back from the edge.
But I see him for what he truly is . . .
A man who would rather burn the world than admit his failures.
“You never made me strong, G randfather .” My voice is steady, despite the trembling of my body. “I did that on my own.”
I slam my foot down onto his fingers, a satisfying crunch of bone splintering beneath the pressure. Teeth bared, his grip loosens, and he plummets into the flames below, disappearing in the depths of the graves he dug with his own bare hands. A high-pitched scream engulfs me, then cuts short as the fire consumes him.
A fitting end for the man who tried to control everything.
I drop to my knees by Caleb’s side, gripping his blood-slick arm. “We’re almost there,” I whisper, though I barely believe it.
Flames roar. The orphanage groans. It’s now or never.
Smoke sears my lungs with every breath. Sweat and soot mingle on my skin, creating rivulets of grime that streak down my arms as I struggle with Caleb’s dead weight.
I can’t stop now, even as the inferno devours everything around us.
Ash rains down like snow, heat scorching my skin. Thornhaven Orphanage is dying, and I’m ready to let it take every memory, my grandfather and his house of horrors with it.
A wall collapses behind me with a deafening crash, and I fling my body across Caleb, shielding him once again from the shower of embers. My body screams at me, exhaustion from the last few days taking hold.
I don’t know if I can do this.
“Get up, Maeve. Now!”
Through the cloud of smoke, the blurred edge of the world beyond the flames beckons me through a broken window.
With everything I have left, I drag Caleb toward the it. My legs barely work, my arms scream, but I don’t stop until we collapse outside, onto the cool, damp grass beneath us.
I suck in clean air, filling my lungs with life-giving oxygen. Every muscle in my body refuses to move, so I just lay there staring at the night sky, blackened by smoke.
It swallows me whole.
The sound of the fire roars behind us. I pat the solid earth beneath my body, the weight of Caleb beside me. I’m not giving up on him. I roll towards him, my trembling hands finding his beautiful face.
“Asher,” I whisper, brushing soot from his cheek. “Caleb. One of you. Please.”
Nothing.
Closing my eyes, I drop my head onto his bare chest and wait.
For the fire to take us.
Or for a miracle.