Chapter 6 The Real Arsonist

I needed to know what really caused the fire that ruined my life. In my previous life, Linden never told me what started the fire. He just said it was an accident and blamed the studio I bought for having inadequate fire safety equipment. But I remembered that the studio had always passed its fire safety inspections. Linden even told my family not to mention the fire around me. He said I had severe trauma responses and couldn't handle hearing anything related to fire, so they never told me the details. The day of the fire, all three of us were in the studio. I was in the back room, photographing Linden's paintings with my camera. I wanted to send them to an art collector to see if he could help boost Linden's reputation. After graduation, Linden had gained some recognition in art circles thanks to my financial backing. But his talent was mediocre at best, and his technique wasn't particularly impressive. It was purely my money that had propped him up. Back then, Linden said he had another painting to finish and went to the lounge, telling me not to disturb him. I simply listened and left him alone. At first, I didn't even know Rosalind was in the studio too. When I noticed the fire starting, I knocked on every single room door, but Linden didn't respond. I thought he had already left the studio, so I ran toward the exit. That was when Linden came out of his lounge, shouting Rosalind's name. Only then did I realize she was still inside. I had plenty of time to escape by myself, but once I learned Rosalind was trapped, I had chosen to hold the door open with my own body. I had been afraid that the rusty old iron door would be impossible to reopen once it closed, so I used myself to buy them time to escape. Eventually, I had collapsed from exhaustion, and every inch of my skin got burned. The fire department's report came out quickly. The cause was that a candle in one of the studio rooms had ignited flammable materials, causing the blaze. But why would there be candles in the studio? The studio was full of wooden frames and flammable canvases and papers. I would never bring candles in there, and neither would Linden. Rosalind then posted a video saying it was an accident caused by someone's scented candle that ruined her life. Online users felt sorry for her and decided I was the villain who lit the candle. Suddenly, sympathy for her reached its peak while the attacks on me came down like a blizzard. Rosalind claimed her voice might still be salvageable, but the surgery would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. She started selling products online, and everyone supported her. People even bought things and told her not to ship them, as they just wanted to donate money to her. Every video she posted had people voluntarily promoting it for her. These organic numbers were way better than any fake engagement I'd ever bought her. Some mysterious benefactor even contacted top specialists around the world to treat her for free. She was the most pitiful victim, and I was the despicable arsonist. That day, Rosalind couldn't contain her smugness and sent me a message. "Aurora, who would have thought you'd fall this low? You had your moment in the first half of your life, but from now on, I'll be the one stepping on your face. If you apologize and beg me for mercy right now, maybe I'll throw you a lifeline." I didn't respond. It finally dawned on me that she'd been harboring resentment toward me this whole time. She was happy to take my money, but felt bitter about me at the same time. Since she couldn't get much money from me as a female friend, she introduced Linden to me instead. She knew me well, so she knew exactly what kind of man I'd fall for. She coached Linden on exactly what to say and do, making sure I'd be smitten with him the moment I laid eyes on him. Sure, Linden liked her, but he also liked money. I was a hopeless romantic, so even though Linden never agreed to be with me, I was still willing to spend money on him. I poured my heart out for Rosalind too, thinking we had this amazing friendship between the three of us. But to them, I was just a stupid walking ATM.