The drive from the cafe was silent. Thick, heavy silence that neither of them broke.
They were quiet for different reasons, Nathaniel was worried about Clara's silence and Laura's appearance at the cafe while Clara was worried about what Laura meant when she said that she should be 'lucky' she wasn't the one involved in the accident and she should on to Nathaniel.
When they reached home, she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him. "Nathaniel… I'm sorry."
He frowned, glancing at her. "For what?"
"For worrying you," she said softly. "I didn't mean to stay out so long."
She knew it wasn't her fault but she missed the first day of her new job as a lab scientist at Nathaniel's company. She couldn't help but be ashamed.
He sighed, leaning back in his seat. "You don't have to apologize for helping someone, Clara. You saw that woman lying there—you did what anyone decent would've done."
"But—"
"No buts," he said firmly, his eyes meeting hers. "If anything, you should be proud. You saved her life."
Clara looked away, her chest tightening with unspoken things. She wanted to tell him everything—that Laura had appeared like a ghost, that her words still clung to her skin like cold rain—but something stopped her. He had enough to worry about, and she wasn't ready to see that anger in his eyes again.
"Was she all right?" Nathaniel asked, breaking the silence.
Clara nodded. "The nurse said her daughter would be there soon. They'll take care of her."
"That's good," he said quietly, starting the car again to pull into the garage. "Now let's get inside. You look exhausted."
___________
The next morning came bright and slow. Clara woke early, her head heavy with restless dreams—Laura's voice, the old woman's face, and how similar she looked to her dad and it seemed the woman knew something too.
She sat by her window, phone pressed to her ear as Lily's voice came through, groggy but alert.
"Clara? It's barely seven."
"I know," Clara said, staring absently at the garden below. "I couldn't sleep. That woman I helped yesterday—there's something strange about her."
"Which woman?"
Oh that's right she didn't tell Lily about the accident.
After telling Lily everything that happened yesterday leaving the part about Laura.
"She looked like dad. And the way she looked at me, Lily—it was like she knew me."
Lily was quiet for a moment before answering, "Maybe she's confused. Or maybe…"
"Maybe it's connected," Clara finished softly. "To everything that's been happening."
"You think Laura's involved?"
"I know she is."
"That's not coincidence," Lily said, her tone sharp now. "We need to find out who that woman is."
"I was thinking the same," Clara said. "We'll go to the hospital later, see if we can talk to her daughter."
"Good. But be careful."
"I know," she whispered.
But Clara was really curious, if this old woman turned out to be related to her, it might give her clues on their parents disappearance and whether Laura's really involved.
__________
Later that evening, Clara was reading on her bed when a soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," she called.
Nathaniel stepped inside, casual in a plain shirt and dark trousers, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "I was going to watch a movie in the theatre room," he said. "Figured you might want to join."
Clara blinked, warmth spreading through her chest. "A movie?"
He shrugged. "It's been a long couple of days. We could use a break."
It wasn't a date, not officially—but her heart didn't seem to care. "I'd like that," she said, smiling.
"Great. I'll grab the popcorn—"
A sharp, deliberate knock echoed from downstairs, cutting him off. The air shifted instantly.
Nathaniel frowned, exchanging a look with her. "Who could that be?"
They descended the stairs together, the soft hum of the house now tense and still. When he opened the door, Clara's stomach dropped.
Outside stood Nathaniel's step mom— Margaret and a young girl, who resembled his stepmother, maybe his stepsister.
The wicked bunch.
"Good evening," Margaret said smoothly. "We thought we'd drop by. It's been far too long, hasn't it?"
Nathaniel's expression darkened. "Step Mother. Vivian. What are you doing here?"
Vivian. So that was her name.
"Oh, must we have a reason to visit family?" Margaret asked sweetly, her gaze sliding past him to Clara. "You don't mind, do you, dear?"