Heartbreak Hotel

N I N E

“ARSON?”

OPHELIA FOLLOWED Claudia as she tugged her down the hallways by her wrist. All she could see was the back of Claudia’s head of large wavy hair, and her eyes followed the pattern of the patients around of them. Some looked worried, others lost, others unbothered and unemotional. She was looking for Jude, where was he? Was he okay? She tugged on her lip, hoping he’d be fine.

“Yeah,” was all Claudia let out, “we need to get to the back premises and get into our groups. Our groups are based on what floor we’re staying on.”

The concept was weird to Ophelia. This reminded her of fire drills she used to practice at school, where they’d evacuate calmly and line up in their classes as their teachers called out their names to ensure they were present and not still in the building. But this wasn’t a drill-- this was real. Who was angry enough to commit arson? Was this the result of anger? Heartbreak? Sadness? Who finally decided they had enough and set fire to the damn place. Ophelia felt conflicted-- she liked the idea of even the slightest bit of resistance, but not at the risk of hurting other people. It was making her uneasy.

Once they finally made their way outside, Claudia nodded to a tall, middle-aged man who was carrying a folder as he stood in front of a group of patients. “That’s the group for the fourth floor. I’m on the second floor. You go over to that man, Mr. Graham, and tell him your name, he’ll check you off the list. After it’s safe for us to go back inside, I’ll meet you at the door we came out of.”

Ophelia warily glanced at the group, then back at Claudia.

“Go,” Claudia told her, “I’ll see you later, I promise.” With a departing smile, she turned her head and headed to her designated group.

Ophelia watched her bouncing waves with concern before unsurely turning around and heading towards the group. As she was walking, she noticed something: where was bellboy? Did he finally get the message and lay off? Ophelia wanted to laugh at the thought as soon as it came in. As if. The guy wouldn’t know personal space if it slapped him in the face, fat chance he’d leave her alone. She felt bitter and overwrought as she dragged her feet to the man.

He turned to her upon seeing her, glancing up once and down with his empty brown eyes, as if making a prejudgement. Mr. Graham’s wrinkled mouth tilted down with distaste, “You’re late. What’s your name, Miss?” She didn’t miss the heavy British accent that weighed down his voice.

“Ophelia Angara,” she grumbled.

Mr. Graham placed a check next to her name on the list before giving her one more not-so-friendly look. “Right. Well, get in line please, Miss Angara.’

Ophelia bit the inside of her cheek and watched the cemented ground as she padded over to the end of the line, arms lying limply at her sides as she did so. Why did her stomach feel so weird? She didn’t like it-- this foreboding sense of dread, her lungs feeling light and airy with… what was it? Mild discomfort? Displeasure? She wasn’t sure. Her eyes focused on the back of the straight haired boy in front of her.

She peered around his body, eyes searching the line again. Where was Jude? He was on the fourth floor, too. He couldn’t have been the one who… no. No way. Ophelia erased the thought as soon as it appeared. She was cynical, not plain stupid. She knew someone like Jude was too soft to do something like this. No matter how angry, she somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. She hadn’t known him for long, but she was great at reading people, and it was damn clear that he wasn’t capable of such.

He wasn’t the type of person to purposely put himself out there for the sake of being unique or different or not following the crowd. That was more of her thing. In fact, Ophelia was sure he didn’t like that she was so outspoken. Either way, he couldn’t commit something as serious as arson. This had to be bigger, deeper.

“Mr. Graham?” Ophelia suddenly called out. Upon hearing his name, he looked up with nothing short of a scowl worn on his aged face. “Have you not checked Jude Sinclair off?”

Mr. Graham raised an eyebrow, “No, Miss Angara. He is currently with Mrs. Plymouth further down. He was with her at the time of the drill. He’s been marked as present, he’s fine.”

“Right.” Ophelia didn’t appreciate the curious stares of the surrounding patients. It was annoying to her- why were they looking at her like that? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was just making sure her friend was alright. There was nothing wrong with that. Her friend. Nothing more. Jude is just a friend, she repeated to herself. A friend that I’m angry at, Ophelia thought.

Still, it was relieving to hear that he was doing okay.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of firetruck sirens ringing her ears. She couldn’t see the large red vehicle, it was probably at the front of the building. By the looks of it, everyone was here. She spotted Claudia, who offered her a reassuring smile before turning her head and rubbing her arms from the chilly weather.

It was cold today and the small tuff of dark smoke that was leeching into the vast grey sky. It wasn’t a big fire, but obviously big enough to cause a stir. She was freezing without a proper coat on, she didn’t get the chance to grab hers before leaving and the Seattle weather was nipping at her pale, freckled skin. She sighed, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands to keep them from getting cold, too. Her neck was fairly warm with her dark, thick hair covering it from the light wind.

All there was to do now was wait.

And wait she did.

Fourty-five minutes to an hour went by until they were finally able to go back inside. The fire had taken place in one of the bathrooms on the fifth floor and luckily didn’t damage anything other than that. It was closed off from access, unavailable for use by the patients. Ophelia’s butt felt numb from sitting on the freezing ground for so long, something she had to do after standing got tiring, she was glad to get back inside.

Like Claudia had told her to, she headed to the same door they came out of. It was on the side of the building and she was waiting just around the corner from it, Claudia not to be found yet. As her eyes scanned the crowd, her ears picked up the sound of two voices-- one man and one woman whispering just around the corner at the door.

“Alyssa Hafaki and Sean Giordano,” The woman said, “Alyssa set the fires and the two of them made it out.”

Ophelia held back a small gasp.

There was ruffling of papers, “They’d been planning it for weeks. They mapped out their escape and executed it perfectly. The authorities have been alerted, right?”

“Yes, Doctor Khalid. The FBI is currently looking into where they’ve planned on going. This is a federal threat and crime, I’m sure they’ll find them.” The woman told him.

“I hope so, Jeanine.” were Doctor Khalid’s before the door swung open and they headed inside.

This was planned. The fire was an escape plan. Two people, a girl and a boy, had set a fire to distract everyone from them so that they could leave. Ophelia couldn’t help but feel surprised-- there was more rebelliousness living among these patients than she’d originally thought. There was anger brewing in some of the residents. Was this the first rebellious act of many, or just a one-time thing to never be attempted again?

“Hey.” Claudia said.

Ophelia snapped out of her thoughts, “Oh, Jesus. Where’d you come from?”

“I just got here. You were staring at the ground. What’s wrong?”

Ophelia’s eyes were wide with disbelief, “You might not believe me, but,” she grabbed Claudia and leaned in so close that they were a few inches away, “This was a rebellious act.”