Chapter 13 – The Morning Headlines
The next morning, Clara was woken by her phone ringing nonstop.
She groaned, answered, and heard Mia's voice — faint, weak, but unmistakable.
"Clara… don't trust—"
Static. The call cut off.
"Mia?" she shouted, sitting upright. "Mia!"
Her hands shook as she redialed. No answer.
Before she could panic further, her doorbell rang. She swung it open to find Ethan standing there, phone in hand, expression grim.
"You got a call," he said.
Clara froze. "How did you—?"
"I traced the signal. It came from a hotel near the docks."
She grabbed her coat. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"Clara—"
"No! She's my friend, Ethan. I'm not sitting here while something happens to her."
For a moment, his cold mask cracked. "Fine. But you follow my lead."
The drive to the docks was tense. The gray morning sky matched Ethan's mood perfectly — dark, quiet, controlled. Clara glanced at him, noticing for the first time how tired he looked beneath the perfection.
"You really don't rest, do you?" she said softly.
He didn't answer.
When they reached the old hotel, the air smelled of salt and rain. The place was almost empty.
Ethan gave quick instructions to his security detail, then motioned for Clara to stay behind him.
They climbed the stairs — creaking, dimly lit. On the third floor, a door stood ajar.
Inside was a small room. A cup of coffee still steaming. A phone on the bed. And a note.
Clara picked it up with trembling hands. "'Don't let him find me.'"
She looked up, eyes wide. "Ethan… what if she wasn't hiding from them?"
He met her gaze.
"What if she's hiding from you?"