And If You Wrong Us

Part 2: Reputation

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you for coming to read my story! If you end up enjoying this section, please vote and leave a comment! While you read this chapter, here are some things to think about : 1. Do you like the poem at the beginning? (I haven't decided if I should use poems at the beginning of my sections or not!) 2. Is the dialogue of the children convincing? (Keeping in mind that this is setting is based on Victorian England). 3. What do you think about the new resident at the orphanage?

What do you hear

In the dark

In the halls

In the silence

What do you say

To the hurt

To the anger

To the memories

What do you see

In my face

In my eyes

In my soul

Do you hear me?

Do you speak to me?

Do you see me?

Or am I just

A whisper on the wind

Mr. Raven sat at his desk, hands folded in front of him, brow furrowed, replaying the moments of the night before and tumbling over the many questions filling his head.

What's happening to Sarah? Is Mr. Roberts under suspicion? Why was Mr. Pemberly so abruptly — and publicly — murdered?

His thoughts skipped back to Sarah; the fire of her hair, the ice of her breath, the intoxication of her scent. He visualized her sweeping around the ballroom like a spectre, evading his gaze; a vision of beauty and flaws perfectly sewn together.

He sighed. I'm just turning into an old fool with too many "what ifs". His gaze wandered to the window. And she is the greatest "what if" I have ever encountered.

Mr. Raven shook himself from his near stupor when someone knocked on his door.

Mr. Roberts entered, leaving the door slightly ajar. "Cirius, I have Sarah Pemberly with me. She's going to be staying with us awhile."

Mr. Raven shot up from his chair. "She has no relations to take her in?"

Mr. Roberts gave him a calculating look, then turned towards the open door. "Pardon us for just a moment, my dear," he said to Sarah, then closed the door fully. He settled down into the chair across from Mr. Raven. "Please sit."

Mr. Raven did so slowly, keeping his eyes on the door.

Mr. Roberts leaned in. "Listen, Cirius, whatever this is — infatuation, I surmise — you need to let it go. We are a reputable institution. We must all be professional about this, despite the worrying circumstances."

Mr. Raven opened his mouth to object.

"I don't want lies or excuses," Mr. Roberts cut him off. "It's clear to me that things are not going well at home. I've noticed how many times you've stayed late at the office over the past few months. I've noticed the change in your demeanor. I know it's none of my business, but I'd like to think, after all this time, that we are friends. Friends who can confide in one another."