“What a peculiar way to handle a fire,” Mr. Davies remarked, his voice steady but firm. “Moving valuables instead of calling for help.”

Tom and Sarah exchanged a glance, the veneer of their charade slipping further. Tom opened his mouth to protest, but Sarah placed a hand on his arm, a silent plea for him to stop.

“We… we didn’t mean any harm,” Sarah said, her voice faltering, the bravado from earlier completely gone. “We just… we thought it would help.”