"Is there something liquid in your bag ma'am. I'm thinking of carrying it without it bending." The porter said to Angela, and she shook her head immediately. "No. There's nothing liquid. Uh, it's just… it's just some water. I don't drink water just anywhere. It gives me real stomach problems, so you see, I always take my own water with me wherever I go." She lied quickly, and the man looked at the bag as if envisioning lots of water in it. Finally, Angela got to her room, and the man dropped her bag carefully. She looked around at the things around the room, wondering if they were flammable. The curtains were heavy, and were pulled back to show a picturesque view of the city. In the the distance, she spotted a rolling stream, and her hands touched the large glass that acted as a wall and also a window. The bed was spread with sheets. One look at them, and she could tell they were also flammable. There were books on a shelf too. The perfect things to fuel a fire. There was a television, a water dispenser, mini fridge, and the living room had soft sofas that made her want to sink into it. Very soon, they would all be down in the ground. She picked up her phone, and dialed the numbers of her dad and Jefferson one after the other to be sure they were in their rooms already. They weren't, but she only had to wait a little while longer since they were on their way. After some minutes, her phone buzzed, and she checked the text message. *Jefferson is also in his room. You can start by drenching the room.* Angela immediately stuffed her phone into her pocket, and tore open her traveling bag, taking the large coat out of it, and wearing it. "Finally, the time has come. I'm going to take a sweet revenge. Maybe I'll see Charles cry when I go to him. That will definitely make up for everything he has ever done to me." She said to herself, adjusting the coat properly. None of them wanted to smell so much like gasoline, should they be noticed, so they had spare clothes to reduce the smell, and those spare clothes were going to have to burn. She loved the coat. It was lovely, but she could always get a new one. The particular coat she had on could die for Charles. She didn't mind. After buttoning up the coat, she began to pour gasoline on everything flammable. The shelves, and books, curtains, bed, rugs, pillows… Angela sniffed her nails, and hoped they wouldn't catch flames, because they smelled like gasoline.By the time she was done, the room carried the toxic smell of gasoline. She hid the kegs under the bed, and took off her coat before stepping out. Then she called Jefferson. "Yeah, I'm done. I'm just stepping out. I'll call your father. Once he sends the text, we're to light it up." Jefferson said, and Angela took in a deep breath, and smiled. She ended the call, and looked into the room. "Charles, I hope you die of an heart attack when you hear this news." She said, smiling, and then, the message popped in her phone. She pretended to lock the door, but turned on a lighter instead, and threw it into the room. She began to walk away, and when she was a few steps away, the fire alarm began to ring. Something in the room blew up, and people rushed out of their rooms, running, and Angela totally forgot about blowing up the other rooms, so instead, she left quickly. It turned out their little fire had actually blown up half the VIP rooms,band they had gotten away safely. ~ Charles watched the news with his mouth wide open. There was his hotel, close to half of it destroyed by flames. They had not burnt down to ashes, but they were unrecognizable, and covered in soot. His heart felt like it was about to burst as he watched it go down, but tears didn't fall from his eyes. Instead, his hands clenched on his pillow. "I've informed the police. They're investigating it. You do not need to worry about that, Charles. It will all be for the best. I know it sounds weird, but that's just all I can offer. I just don't know what to say. You're in this state, you need to recover, and thinking is not really good for you, at this moment." Vera said. She knew what she said wasn't much comfort, but there was just nothing else she could do. She had been so pained when she saw the building burning, but she couldn't show her sadness in front of Charles who was already trying hard to conceal his own sadness. Just then, James burst into the ward and stared at the TV screen. "Oh my god! What is… What is all this? What is this, Charles?" He asked, and Vera tried to let him know Charles himself was not in a right state of mind. "Who did this?" He asked, turning on Vera like she automatically knew who did it. Vera gave a sigh, and looked away."I'm afraid I don't know but they're working on it, and very soon, we'll know who set it on fire, and I'll make sure they get punished." Vera vowed, and James turned back to the burning building. "Charles." He called, but Charles hung his head low. All through the day, Charles was depressed. He couldn't seem to get himself. People from the organization had called to send in their sincere apologies. Mr. Grayson had also called, and had tried to make Charles feel better. Even Angela had come again to visit him, and try to cheer him up, but she was just the wrong person. After some more hours, Charles slept, and when he did, a single tear rolled onto his pillow. The tear he had been holding back all day.