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Last night was a blur. A blur that smelled of smoke, and burnt wood, and that still brought heat everytime she thought about it. But at least, a blur that they got out of, so Kathryn cannot think of complaining.
The Pogues are sitting in front of what used to be the Château, and is now basically just the burnt corpse of a house. Kathryn used to play hide and seek there. She used to make pancakes for John B, there.
There was barely anything left, the beams still burning, falling to the ground as she puts a hand on John B's arm.
"Could've been a faulty electrical wire," Pope says.
They're covered in soot, and ashes, but everyone is fine, which is more than she can say for the Château. God, she loved this place. It wasn't fair.
"Place was all wood," Kie lets out. "A tinderbox."
"Thing just went up," Cleo adds. "Boom."
Kathryn shuts her eyes. "As if we didn't have enough on our plate, you know?"
JJ hums. "Verdict's in, man. Whoever's up there? Does not like you." Sarah sends him a look. "Sorry."
Billy sighs a little, looking at John B from behind Kathryn. "You can always crash at the Palace when you guys come back... until we rebuild it."
He hangs his head in defeat, but doesn't say anything. What more can be said? His childhood home just went up in flames. The place where his friends regrouped, gone. With it, his clothes, his pictures, all his stuff. Every little memory was gone with the smoke.
There was nothing to be said. And they still had to move forward. They were going to South America, today. They should already be on their way, really.
The group relocates to the docks, cleaning the soot out with salt water, as best as they can. They don't exactly have anything else to work with, so...
Once they're sort of clean, John B turns to his girlfriend. "Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?"
