Cynthia's eyes were glued to the smart screen, watching the fire eating the Evans family's mansion emotionlessly.
"Are you okay?" Came George's concerned voice as he tightened his arm that was wrapped around her waist.
"I have never been better, it's strange…The weight that I feel has been lifted, what's wrong with me?"
"Nothing…You are perfect," he smiled a genuine smile at her, pouring all of his love into it.
As the head of their security, Henry's final official mission was to fake the death of the entire family in a terrifying fire that would eat their house and all of their belongings. They did it for the sake of their children, but nobody expected Cynthia to be this relieved.
"You know, George, I think it was one of my earliest memories, but it's as clear as daylight, how the blood felt beneath my shoes, Henry's ashy face as he was tugging me out by the hand… How could I have stayed in that place for all of those years?"
