Chapter 12 - The Night Crescent City Burned
Kora did not cry.
That frightened Arthur more.
“My father died when I was fourteen.”
Richard nodded.
“That’s what we told you.”
Kora laughed bitterly.
“We?”
Richard closed his eyes.
He explained.
Thomas Hastings had been an accountant for the old families.
He discovered the trafficking routes.
He copied records.
He approached Richard.
Together they began building the evidence archive.
When Evelyn discovered them, Thomas became a target.
Richard hid him.
But someone betrayed the location.
Thomas was murdered.
His body needed to disappear.
Evelyn’s empty coffin provided the perfect place.
Kora stared at Richard.
“You buried my father under your wife's name.”
“Yes.”
“And let me think he abandoned us.”
Richard whispered, “Yes.”
Kora slapped him.
Arthur did nothing.
Richard accepted it.
Kora walked outside.
Arthur followed at a distance.
She reached the cathedral steps and finally broke.
Not elegantly.
Not quietly.
Five years of captivity.
A murdered father.
A stolen life.
Arthur sat beside her.
He did not tell her everything would be fine.
Some things were not fine.
He simply stayed.
Eventually Kora rested her head against his shoulder.
“I hate all of them.”
“You're allowed.”
“I hate myself for still wanting a life after this.”
Arthur turned.
“Don't.”
She looked at him.
“That is the one thing I won't let them steal.”
“What?”
“Your future.”
Kora closed her eyes.
Then smoke appeared over the harbor.
Arthur stood.
Pier Seventeen.
Flames rose into the morning sky.
Someone was destroying the warehouses.
Wyatt called.
“Archive facilities are burning.”
Arthur looked toward the cathedral.
Evelyn was already in custody.
Conrad too.
Daniel restrained.
Who remained?
Helena.
Isabella.
Beatrice.
Richard.
Silas.
Elias.
Then Kora whispered, “Mercer wasn't working alone.”
Arthur knew.
They raced toward the harbor.
Fire consumed Warehouse Four.
Witnesses had already been evacuated.
But evidence stored there was burning.
A figure ran between buildings.
Arthur pursued.
The person entered the old freight office.
Arthur followed.
Inside, he found Helena Whitmore.
Beatrice’s mother.
She held a gasoline can.
Arthur stopped.
“Why?”
Helena laughed through tears.
“Because you think Conrad was the monster.”
“He buried your daughter.”
“And I told him to.”
Arthur stared.
Helena had ordered Cecilia’s death.
Cecilia discovered Helena was the actual architect of Whitmore trafficking routes.
Conrad had spent years protecting his wife.
Helena had faked her death when investigations came too close.
Evelyn later recruited her.
But Helena never cared about justice.
Only survival.
“You shot yourself in the cathedral?”
“No. Evelyn shot me.”
Arthur understood.
Evelyn had finally turned against her.
Helena held a lighter.
“This city was built on graves.”
Arthur stepped closer.
“Then stop digging them.”
She laughed.
“You sound like Kora.”
“Good.”
Helena dropped the lighter.
Arthur kicked it away.
Then she pulled a gun.
Kora appeared in the doorway.
Helena aimed at her.
Arthur moved between them.
Kora shouted his name.
A gunshot.
Arthur felt heat across his side.
He fell.
Kora caught him.
Wyatt fired.
Helena’s weapon flew from her hand.
Federal agents rushed inside.
Arthur looked down.
Blood.
Too much.
Kora pressed both hands against his side.
“No.”
Her damaged voice cracked.
“No, no, no.”
Arthur touched her face.
“I'm okay.”
“You're lying.”
“I know.”
She laughed and sobbed simultaneously.
Sirens approached.
Arthur’s vision blurred.
He remembered the grave.
All those Sundays.
All those conversations with a woman who wasn't beneath the stone.
Perhaps love had never been in graves.
Perhaps it survived in whoever kept returning.
He woke in a hospital.
Kora slept beside him.
Her hand held his.
Arthur watched her breathe.
Alive.
He closed his eyes again.
Hours later, Richard arrived.
Helena had confessed.
The archive fires were contained.
Enough evidence survived.
But Richard looked troubled.
“What?”
“Evelyn escaped during transport.”
Arthur sat up despite the pain.
“How?”
“Someone attacked the convoy.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
Kora woke.
Richard’s phone buzzed.
A live video appeared.
Evelyn stood inside Saint Aurelia.
Alone.
Behind her was the open vault.
She looked into the camera.
“I started this at the altar.”
She held up a detonator.
“I'll finish it there.”
The feed widened.
Someone was tied to a chair behind her.
Beatrice.
Arthur ripped the IV from his arm.
May you like
Kora grabbed his coat.
And on the screen, Evelyn placed her thumb over the detonator...
