If it weren’t for her mother, she wouldn’t even be alive!
A worthless plaque? Her mother’s memorial was anything but worthless!
Fury surged through Celeste, giving her a strength she didn’t know she possessed. She wrenched herself free from Philip’s grasp and lunged deeper inside.
Philip tried to stop her again, but Celeste, eyes blazing and nerves frayed, slapped him hard across the face.
“Stay out of my business! Get lost!”
She shoved his arm aside and finally managed to clutch her mother’s memorial plaque to her chest. Burning timber crashed down from above–she screamed and ducked away, still refusing any help from Philip.
Outside, the shouts of the crowd rose in a frenzy.
Philip watched her narrowly dodge the falling wood, his heart twisting painfully. In the next moment, he darted forward, grabbed her, and dragged her out the side door to safety.
The moment they reached the courtyard, Celeste tore her hand from his.
“I don’t need you interfering! Go away! Thank God… thank God, Mom’s plaque is safe…”
She cradled the plaque in her arms, éxamining it with trembling hands. Her mother. had chosen the wood and the inscription herself–this was utterly unique, irreplaceable.
Philip’s heart was pounding wildly. If he’d been even a second too late, Celeste
could’ve died in there!
Who cared about some wooden plaque?
He stood his ground. “Celly, we need to talk. Please, just listen to me!”
Celeste ignored him.
Suddenly, Amanda’s shrill voice cut through the commotion from the front gate.
“I knew it–such bad luck! Father Benedict’s warning came true after all!”
“Celeste! We agreed to let your mother’s memorial be placed in the family chapel, and now you’ve set the whole place on fire! Every one of the Duncan ancestors
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memorials is kept in there!“.
With that, several members of the Duncan family began to point at Celeste, denouncing her as a curse.
Out of sight, Amanda’s lips curled in a twisted smile–now that the chapel was burned, what good was Celeste’s precious memorial anyway?
Celeste slipped around to the front and caught Amanda’s gaze. There was ice in her
eyes.
The fire–it had to be Amanda’s doing.
Amanda, seeing Celeste’s silence, pressed on, voice dripping with false concern.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, Celeste? Feeling guilty, are we?”
“See? She’s guilty! It must have been Celeste who started the fire. She’s always had it in for us elders, always mouthing off-”
The accusation barely left the old man’s lips before Celeste raised her arm, revealing the angry red burns from the smoke and heat. Her eyes flashed, sharp as daggers.
“Seems to me someone was trying to kill me! I was nearly crushed by burning beams and banners.”
“If you’re all so sure I set the fire, then let’s call the police. Let them investigate–let them find out whether someone deliberately tried to kill me, or if I really wanted to burn down the chapel myself!”
At the sight of her injuries, the elders faltered. If she’d meant to set the fire, why would she hurt herself?
Amanda’s face went white.
She couldn’t let Celeste call the police! If they traced the source of the fire back to
her…
“The chapel’s a private place–we can’t have outsiders poking around! From what I saw, only the inner doors and side rooms were damaged. It must have been a candle that accidentally caught a banner. That’s all.”
“Everyone, our Celeste may be headstrong, but she knows right from wrong. There’s no way she’d set a fire on purpose! This is all just a misunderstanding…”
By the end, Amanda was sweating, her voice trembling with guilt.
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Someone patted her on the shoulder. “You’ve got your hands full as a
stepmother–dealing with your stepdaughter’s messes and all.”
Celeste listened to her relatives‘ words and wanted to retch. Hugging her mother’s memorial close, she turned and walked away–she needed to find a quiet, dean place to keep her mother’s memory safe.
She’d barely stepped out of the chapel’s gates when Philip caught her wrist in a bruising grip.
She’d forgotten he was even there.
Celeste spun around. “Let go of me!”
