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Barnum took a deep breath as he waited for Phillip in his office. The man had insisted on helping Charity with the dishes and, while he knew it didn't exactly paint him in the greatest light, Barnum was simply too jittery to assist. So he'd excused himself to his own office to await the younger man.

Finally, Phillip came into the room, approaching Barnum slowly. Blue eyes flashed curious and confused.

"Close the door," Barnum motioned. Phillip nodded and the door closed with a soft click.

"What's this about, Barnum?" Phillip asked. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

Barnum took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you remember anything that happened last night?"

"Last night?" Phillip frowned. "Um, there was the bar...I got drunk." He winced as if just remembering that he was, in fact, still suffering from a hangover.

"Yes. What else?"

"I...I don't—"

Barnum cleared his throat. "You mentioned the fire."

"The fire?" Phillip stared at him blankly.

"Yes, Phillip."

"Why would I—"

Phillip froze. His eyes widened and locked with Barnum's. Barnum lowered his head and nodded briefly.

"I remember," he whispered.

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