Thomas did not come back to bed that night, as well as the next day, Sunday. I was the whole time in my room, only sneaking into the kitchen a few times, not wanting to see either father or son.
And while I couldn't be happier about the fact that I was sleeping alone for two nights, on the other side, I was starting to fear that Jude had done something to his father.
So, my sleep was turbulent, and I woke up either because I felt Jude's eyes on me or Thomas arms around my body, only to open my eyes and discover I had imagined things.
Groggy, I let myself be woken up by my favorite maid on Monday; she wasn't friendly, but she didn't bellow at me either, so the bribe had ended up having more use than one.
Not in the mood for breakfast, I washed up and got into the car, where I found myself alone.
No Jude meant no trouble, but also a far too spacious car.
Sliding the partition down, I asked the driver,
"Have you seen Thomas today?"
The driver mustered me in the review mirror before answering,
"I have, Master went to work, do you need to speak to him, Madam?"
Urgh, these titles...
"No. Thank you." Although it was cringy to do that into the driver's face, I put the partition back up after asking.
Now I was a lot lesser worried; it would be the best if Thomas had gotten fed up with me and wasn't lying anywhere, reduced to a charcoal corpse. And Jude was hopefully just resting at home, not aggrieving his wounds any more by yanking people around in his bed.
Arriving and going to the sports hall, I was soon called out over the speakers,
"Lesly Lane, in the principal office, please." Luckily, they used my real last name and not the one from my husband, although it still felt every time as if I were a student myself when they referred to me like this.
I made my way to the office, and when I entered, I asked the secretary why she hadn't called me over the phone; she told me that she had tried, but that it was turned off. Upon checking it, it had really been a long time since I charged it. This mystery was solved when we suddenly heard screams from the office.
Looking at the secretary in askance, she shrugged and motioned for me to enter.
"...such as fingerprints, there has to be something that can be done!" A woman screamed at the principal as I walked inside. She was dressed beautifully, showing off her noble lineage. A man was holding her, apparently trying to calm her down.
"Teacher Lesly, you are here." The principal nodded at me, and I looked at the upset couple, confused.
"It was you..." The woman, as if under a spell, freed herself away from her husband and came towards me.
SLAP
My ear rang, and physical tears shot into my eyes. So early in the morning, and instead of tormenting students, here I was getting my own dose of pain. The slap of a noblewoman was really no joke.
Wiping away the tears that had gathered in my eyes, I noticed that the husband had already come forward, hugging the woman and bringing distance between us. The principal had stood up to call her out, but he stopped before sighing and sitting down again.
"Lesly, these are Bernard's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carter." The principal looked already drained, motioning to them and introducing them.
I had already figured, I hadn't that many enemies under adult people, besides the two psychos in the house and this couple, that should be a bit angry.
"It's your fault! How could such a thing happen in your lesson?!" The woman shrieked at me.
I nodded at her,
"The fire happened in my lesson, although it was during the fifteen-minute break, and in the boy's changing room, I will take the responsibility. I am very sorry." I bowed lightly to them. Furthermore, I really felt apologetic. Mostly for covering the real culprit, and I was sorry for a young boy to have his life or at least his school time ruined. But I also apologized so that the whining parents would shut up.
While Mrs. Carter mumbled that a 'sorry' wouldn't suffice, crying, her husband nodded at me curtly before turning to the principal,
"We want the police to investigate this case."
Grandpa-Principal nodded,
"Naturally, you are free to do so. But other students have used the changing room in the meantime; a few students carried a lighter with them, when the fire happened, and we cannot identify who of them the culprit was. I will not disclose which of the students carried a lighter with them because I will not implicate possibly innocent students."
Mr. Carter nodded, while his wife broke into tears anew,
"It was your mistake to not contact the police immediately; how will you take responsibility?"
The principal looked at him sternly,
"What are you thinking of?"
"I want shares of this school, purchased at the lowest market price within the last fifty years." Mr. Carter stunned everyone in the principal's room, apparently especially Mrs. Cater, who slapped him, and left the office, furious.
The principal sighed and asked me to leave. The confrontation caused by angry parents who demanded justice for their son had turned into a business meeting. I nodded at the man and left for the toilet, where I washed my stinging cheek with cold water.
I can understand the noblewoman; I would want the culprit to bleed as well, instead of my husband taking advantage of my kid's suffering.
But now that the culprit was Jude, there would be no bleeding.
I was relieved that things had escalated in the principal's office so that I wouldn't have to be introduced as a guardian for Jude in front of the couple. They would, contrary to Grandpa-Principal, surely suspect the little firebug hearing our connection.
I hadn't even asked how Burny was; I really didn't want to know. As long as he was alive, it would be good enough.
******
Thomas POV
We waited as you held my mouth shut, nearly suffocating me. I didn't understand your actions and just basked in your smell, the lack of oxygen making me feel dizzy.
Later, when you let go, we walked to the empty classroom, and you stood in the same spot the kissing pair had been. And after a long time, you asked me to wait in the classroom for you to come back.
I waited for you; naturally, I would do anything for you. You returned and soaked the room with a strong reeking fluid. I still did not understand what it was that you so urgently needed to do until you took a lighter and set the classroom on fire.
Seeing your calm face but turbulent eyes, and feeling the heat of the flames, I understood it for the first time.
You weren't so different from her, were you?