An Accident or A Conspiracy?
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a dim, silver light over the scorched remains of the farm. The air was thick with the acrid scent of charred wood and smouldering embers. Sylvia stood amidst the devastation. Her dress flarred with the wind that blew which also brought a gust of fine soot on her face.
Corbin, tall and broad-shouldered, paced back and forth amidst the ruins, his face etched with a mixture of anger and despair. His eyes were bloodshot, his fists clenched at his sides. Tears streaked his soot-covered cheeks, and he kicked at a charred timber with a helpless rage.
Sylvia had seen and heard the hours-long discussions at the Addis' home where nothing conclusive came out yesterday. Today, her day passed in working in the workshop though Selma didn't show up at all.
Sylvia wanted to talk to Corbin as she didn't get a chance to do so yesterday. But he too had locked himself in his room. She tried to call him out but he didn't respond.