71__Torment

She glanced back to James, seeing his blue eyes stare at her over his mother’s shoulder.

Shaking her head, Amelia pulled her arm out of Arson’s grip. “Wait, I’m not done.”

“Leave it,” Arson said. “They won’t believe you.”

“I have to try!” Turning back to her colleagues, she faced them once more, feeling stronger with Arson here. For James, she had to try. What would happen when he grew old enough to see all the false things the internet was saying about the man he called his father? Amelia wouldn’t allow it.

“I need them to understand. Marc Aryan is nothing like his father. As soon as I can, I’ll be releasing evidence to prove this and to rid him of all suspicion in the current ongoing case, but for now, I’ll say it word for word. Marc isn’t the type of man who would cover his father’s crimes. He’s the type who gives and gives and never expects anything in return. Did any of you know that he has an orphanage running, named after his son? No, you didn’t.” Amelia had learned many things about Marc.

Arson frowned, wondering how she knew about the orphanage Marc owned. Not even the people who ran the orphanage knew.

“That’s because Marc never does anything for the public validation,” she went on. “Same reason why not many people know he’s the sponsor and founder of our hospital. Hell, some of you, myself included, only recently found out that he’s our sponsor and founder! And, when he had that horrible car accident, you all remember? You guys remember that his driver died? Even after Marc moved his driver to a bigger and more expensive hospital, he died. I bet none of you know that Marc has taken full responsibility for his late driver’s family since then!”

They all exchanged glances and she nodded. “Yeah. As his wife, I know far more than any of you.” She’d pried the information out of security a few weeks ago. “The driver’s widow has been trying to see him to thank him for paying her children’s university fees and providing for their home, but he hasn’t allowed her because he feels too guilty about her husband’s death.”

Ahmed placed a hand to his lips, eyes glimmering as he listened intently.

“He cares for people,” Amelia said. “He takes care of people and gives all he can to make them happy. Even to the point of making sure he looks normal to all you unforgiving, judgemental *jerks!”*

“Okay,” Arson said, stepping in. “Calm down.”

“How *dare* you!” she spat crossly.

“Okay! Let’s go.”

Taking her arm, he led Amelia away, tugging her along when she tried to turn around to continue.

“Wait for the evidence!” she shouted. “Soon, I’ll prove his innocence!”

********

Amelia was helping James into Arson’s car, overhearing Thomas beg Elizabeth to go with him.

“Marc would kill us both,” Liza said. “I owe my life to my brother, Thomas. You ever want us… me, you and James, to be a real family, then you make things right with my brother. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t even *have* James. Neither one of us deserves him, we’ve been disgusting parents. Marc is literally the only parent *our* son knows. That’s why your family has no right to take that company away from him."

He lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I never wanted to do it, my father believes that because of Marc's condition, leading the company-"

"His condition?” She scoffed. “Please. He’s more humane than all of us put together.”

Pursing her lips, Amelia quietly buckled James in, taking her ears out of the private conversation behind her.

James was staring up at her with wide eyes. They’d already spoken at the hospital, but she could see he was still anxious.

“You okay, buddy?”

“Are you upset with me?”

She tilted her head, smiling. Straight to the point, just like his dad. “Of course not, James.”

He exhaled, pursing his lips like he was deep in thought. “I’m sorry. I know I already said that.”

“Yes, and I accept your apology. You promised to never do it again, so we’re good.”

He pouted a little. “You… you promised you wouldn’t leave.”

Amelia stared at him, sadness wringing her heart until it was stooped and wrinkled. “And I broke that promise, I’m sorry, Jamie. But I’m back now! Ta-dah!”

He smiled, beaming up at her. “Okay. I forgive you.”

She laughed, nodding. “Thank you *so* much.”

Reaching out, she ruffled his hair. There was so much he was yet to go through. His real parents would want him back and he’d have to get readjusted to a new life. Feeling a sort of kinship with her little buddy, she climbed in beside him and shut the door.

They both had a lot of growing to do.

*****

“What is this?” Amelia asked, watching Elizabeth and James walk through the opening black gates into a rather gigantic property.

She stared at the mansion about a hundred meters away from the gate, mouth slightly parting in awe.

“It’s a house,” he said, pulling out of the driveway and turning back onto the road.

“No shit,” Amelia said calmly.

Arson rolled his eyes. “It’s Marc’s house.”

“What?!” She jumped in her seat, looking at him.

He glanced at her. “You didn’t know? Considering how many of his secrets you do know, I thought you would’ve known what property he owns too.”

She shook her head slowly, glancing back in the direction of the house. “Is it empty?”

“No, Lisa and I stay there. We used to live together with Marc, all three of us but when James came along, it became too dangerous to keep a child with us.”

“Is Lisa your other friend?” Amelia asked. “I saw her name in Marc’s stuff, she left the orphanage at the same time as you two.”

His eyes bulged open. “Wait… what? How do *you* know about Lisa?!”

She pressed her lips together. “I also know that your name’s Anthony.”

“Fu—” He tightly bit his lower lip, exhaling roughly. *”Bloody* hell, Marc. He really let you in on everything.”

“Not everything, clearly. I didn’t know he had another house. The one we live in now must be for James’ safety.”

Giving her a side eye, Arson raised a brow. “We?”

Blinking, she glanced at him. Her cheeks went rosy and she turned away. “I meant ‘they’.”

“Sure. Sure, you did.”

***********

Arson got them up into the house and Amelia hesitantly walked down the now familiar corridor. There was no security downstairs, but Amelia only spotted one or two news vans parked up the road. They were probably waiting for Marc to come out so they could ambush him like they did to her. Vultures.

The house was in darkness even though it was merely midday outside.

Arson stalked past her. “Hurry.”

“Okay, okay. Where is he?”

He stopped, looking at her. “I don’t know, you go and check. I’ll sit down here and wait—

“No way!” She gripped his arm, dragging him along as she walked. “Crazy how you think I have the guts to face Marc on my own.”

With an eyeroll, Arson followed her as she walked cautiously up the stairs.

“Why’s it so quiet?” Amelia whispered. “I’m scared.”

He pursed his lips silently, wishing she’d walk faster.

They went to Marc’s bedroom first and checked. The room was empty, his bed crisply made as though he hadn’t touched it for days.

“He must be in his study,” she said softly, turning to head in that direction.

The closer they got to the office, the louder the voices got.

Frowning, Amelia slowed down as she heard a female voice speak loudly and angrily from Marc’s office.

Gasping, she looked up at Arson, her eyes wide.

He frowned, meeting her gaze. “You… were being recorded?”

Silently, Amelia gave him a look of bewilderment. The voice they heard was hers, repeating the words she’d angrily said to her colleagues back at the hospital.

She’d had no idea that she was being recorded! She hadn’t even spotted anyone with their phone up, how could she have missed it?

*”How dare you?!”* the recording said.

Trembling now, she stood outside of Marc’s office, hesitating.

Arson knocked twice and she jolted. “Hey! I’m not ready.”

“Get ready!” he whispered back.

“Yes, Arson,” said a raspy voice in a dark and heavy tone.

Without giving her another moment, Arson grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, revealing the shadowy office beyond.

Behind his desk, Marc was focusing on a screen before him, a glass and bottle of brandy beside him. Both the bottle and glass were clearly untouched.

“What is it, Arson?” he asked quietly, not lifting his gaze from the screen.

“You weren’t picking up your calls,” Arson said.

Marc was silent for a moment and Amelia heard the recording restart. The fact that it started right from the beginning of her argument with Dr May told her that she’d been recorded during the entire thing and had failed to notice.

Unable to think of that right now, however, she stood in tense silence waiting for Marc to notice her but again hoping he wouldn’t.

“I asked you to give me time alone,” Marc finally said.

“And I told you I’d give you two days,” Arson countered, walking into the office. “Today’s day three, you should’ve known I’d come if you didn’t pick up.”

With a sigh, Marc only drew the laptop closer, staring at Amelia’s face on it.

“Marc.”

He kept his gaze on the screen. “I can’t… figure it out. Why’s she saying this? I don’t understand why she’s fighting for me.”

Arson was frowning, listening closely. This was a look he’d rarely seen on Marc. The only other time he’d seen this expression was in the orphanage when Marc had been explaining his mother’s death to answer the question of why he was there despite his father being alive.

“What if everything she said,” he went on, lowering his head. “Was a lie? I’m not good or amazing as she said. I’m afraid, Anthony. Afraid that I’m exactly what they say I am and *nothing* that she thinks I am.”

“Marc.”

“I don’t deserve her graciousness.”

“Marc, look up.”

Tiredly, he raised his gaze to Arson’s and immediately froze. His eyes snapped back towards the doorway.

Shock flattened his expression, eyes widening slightly as he finally saw her. “Amelia…”

She was clutching the bottom of her jacket, staring at him with wide eyes in a pale face. “Uhm… hi. Marc.” Her voice was shaking.

He sat in numb silence, wanting to stand but finding his joints weak as he watched her approach.

Amelia forced herself to relax, walking up to his table as casually as she could. “So, uh… having a drink, eh?”

He stared at her, slowly shook his head.

“Right,” she said. “The bottle’s clearly unopened.” Why did she say that? Amelia inwardly cringed.

“You’re here…” He said quietly.

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Yup. I… I needed to see you.”

The emotions in his eyes shifted, hope blooming. “Me? You needed to see me? Why? I *uhm…”* Looking around, he noticed the recording was still playing and quickly stopped it, closing the laptop.

She bit her lip, lowering her gaze. “I’m sorry, Marc. About that. I’m sorry I told them about your condition, I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my place and—”

“No.” He reached a hand out, catching himself halfway and returning his arm to the table. “Don’t be sorry, *I’m* sorry. Those people were saying bad things about you all because of me. You don’t deserve that, you don’t deserve any of it.”

She shook her head. “None of that’s your fault—”

“No, it is.” He stared at her for a silent moment, swallowing hard. Finally managing to stand, he moved to the side of the desk so he could face her. “Amelia. I’m sorry about your mother. I should’ve said it sooner, I should’ve apologized. I can’t change any of it, all I can say is that I am deeply sorry.”

Her expression tightened, her throat instantly clenching with tears as she looked up at him.

He was shaking his head. “You’re right about what you said. Because of my condition, I failed to save your mother. Your heartache… your misery from losing her, I was a part of causing that.”

She tightly bit her lip, feeling her heart ache.

“I… Th—th…” Marc found himself having difficulty speaking. Clenching his jaw, he forced the words out. “I… I should’ve done something, I should’ve been better. How disgusting is it? To be so broken that I couldn’t see what was happening right before me—”

“Stop it,” she said. “Stop blaming yourself, you hadn’t received enough treatment at the time.”

“For it to happen twice is unbelievable, Amelia. Don’t you see? My mother… your mother…” He shook his head and she was crushed to see his eyes fill. “My condition isn’t one that hurts only me. People literally died right before my eyes. I didn’t know she was dying, I didn’t read any of the signs but after that when the case closed, when I *eventually* found out what my father had done, I did nothing about it. Knowing that I had witnessed another death was horrifying, but finding out that my father had done it was even worse.”

“Okay. I understand and I hear you, I hear everything you’re saying. But, what’s happening right now,” she said gently, taking his hands into hers. “Is that you’re allowing guilt to fool you, to make you overthink. I need you to listen to me—”

“No, I don’t want your comfort, I don’t deserve it. I’m sorry.” He pulled his hands away. “I’m sorry that I am nothing like what you think I am. When we first met, I told you I was human, Amelia… but that’s just a lie I’ve always told myself so I could look in the mirror—”

“Marc, no!” She gripped his arms, her eyes filling. “Just stop for a moment, stop and—”

“You need to understand!” Clenching his jaw, he shut his eyes. When he opened them and looked at her, they were unfathomable pools of darkness. “No matter how human I *want* to seem, no matter how much I practice, it doesn’t make a difference. Everything they’re saying about me is true. I’ve only lived pretending I was normal because I wanted my life to matter. Instead of being the cursed thing that could be thrown away at an orphanage, instead of being the person who let my beautiful mother die, I wanted to be human, to be worth something. But I’m not. I’m *not.* I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Marc, please…”

“Reading your face, Amelia… reading your lips when you speak… none of it makes me any less the monster I’ve always been.”

She stared at him in horror, her mouth open in silent shock at the harsh words he spoke against himself. Moving her mouth with words that couldn’t make it out, she looked around for help but Arson was long gone.

She turned back to face Marc. He was looking at her with eyes filled with resignation, his face as expressionless as it used to be when she first met him.

“Marc… y-you’re not…” She could only shake her head, tears spilling over. “Please, don’t say that…”

His dull gaze went to her cheeks, staring at her tears. He stepped forward and slowly raised his hands, wrapping her in an unaffectionate hug. “You’re… you’re crying, Amelia. I have to comfort you.”

Amelia stared over his shoulder with eyes filled with grief. Crying now, she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder.

She didn’t know what to do. He seemed to be withdrawing so deeply into his own mind that her words weren’t reaching him. She couldn’t leave Marc like this. She had to do something.

“Marc.” She hugged him tighter. “I’ll be borrowing your medical records for a littel while, okay? I'm sorry. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore, love. I’ll fix everything for you.”

************

Wiping her tears, Amelia hurried down the stairs to find Arson.

She found him making tea in the kitchen.

“How’d it go?” he asked as she walked in.

“Arson. I need your help.”

At the urgency in her voice, Arson stopped and looked at her. Pulling of his glasses, he frowned. “What happened? Is Marc okay?”

She sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t know what else to do. I feel like there’s no other way, but this way scares me. What if it makes things worse?”

“What are you talking about?”

She swallowed. “Arson… do you trust me?”

He stared at her for a moment. “Yes.”

“Okay. I need you to pull out Marc’s medical records. That and the orphanage records. Proving his innocence to the world is important but, first… I need to prove Marc’s innocence to Marc himself.”