Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

But she told herself that Dylan had been through heartbreak more times than she could count-she couldn't let what was happening now break her.

"Clara, don't be so sad," Megan said softly. "Mr. Dylan isn't like other people. Maybe he'll bounce back soon. But if he does, will you still be able to stay in Palm Bay?"

Everyone in Palm Bay listened to her. No one could just make a move against her. If Clara left of her own accord, Old Mr. Foster would definitely take advantage of that.

Megan kept turning it over in her mind, but she still couldn't figure out how to lure Clara out. Ryan wasn't an option anymore either. For some reason, he'd stopped sharing anything with her—and lately, he hadn't even been picking up her calls.

At first, Megan worried Ryan might have suspected something, that maybe he'd tell Clara. But now, it was clear: these siblings didn't really trust each other.

Clara's voice was rough. "Everyone here does what I say, but I can't stay forever."

Megan's hand, hanging at her side, curled into a fist. "Clara, I'll help you. Whatever you need, just ask. I mean it—we'll be the best of friends."noveldrama

Clara frowned, a little confused by the sudden promise, though she knew she owed Megan for everything lately.

They fell quiet for a moment, until Megan finally asked, "I overheard Simon say your boyfriend passed away-and they never found who did it. Is that true?"

Just hearing the name Z made Clara's chest ache. Her face went pale, every bit of color draining away.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Megan's eyes flicked to the red bead bracelet around Clara's wrist. She smiled, trying to keep things light. "That bracelet is gorgeous. Was it a gift from your boyfriend?"

Clara almost never wore jewelry, unless it was something he'd given her-she'd always spoiled that man. Megan already knew this; she was just fishing for confirmation.

She didn't expect Clara to nod, leaning back in her chair, her face drawn with exhaustion.

"I made it for him. There's only one like it."

"You really loved him," Megan said softly. "I think I've told you that a hundred times. Clara, try not to be too sad, okay? Just focus on getting better."

Clara nodded, slowly lying down and shutting her eyes.

Megan stayed in Palm Bay for a while longer. Late that night, she was woken by the sound of a car pulling up outside.

She hurried to the window. Dylan's car was in the driveway. He was back again tonight?

She rushed over to the master bedroom and knocked.

"Clara, Mr. Dylan's back. Do you want to see him?"

Before the words were barely out, the door opened.

Clara was already looking toward the stairs. She could walk now, but her injury left her with a limp.

She made her way to the top of the staircase and saw him. Dylan was home. It must have been raining raindrops still clung to his shoulders.

He walked upstairs, never meeting her eyes, and didn't even pause as he passed

by.

Clara stood there, feeling the chill he carried in with him.

She just watched as he went straight into the study. Both times he'd come home, he hadn't set foot in the master bedroom. He was probably planning to sleep in the old guest room again tonight.

She stood frozen for several seconds, wanting to go after him, to ask what he'd been so busy with lately. But her leg started to throb again, sweat breaking out on her skin.

Dylan's return had woken the

housekeeper, who came out to find Clara standing in the hallway and offered gentle advice. "Ma'am, you need to take care of yourself. Maybe sir is still upset, but we all know how much he cares about you. If you don't get better, he'll just worry more."

Clara knew the housekeeper was right, so she slowly turned to head back.

Megan was waiting outside the bedroom, ready to help, but Clara spoke first.

"Megan, go get some rest too."

Megan nodded, her voice gentle but worried. "Don't overthink it."

"I'm not," Clara replied. "I know this isn't how he really feels."

She lifted her hand, pressing it to her chest. The ring on her finger was still there.

She remembered every word he'd said that day.

She lowered her lashes, feeling a little more at ease.

Back in bed, she fell asleep almost immediately.

Megan, though, kept glancing toward the study. Once the housekeeper was gone,

she headed over and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Dylan called from inside.

Megan stepped in, carrying a mug of warm water.

"Mr. Dylan, are you working late? I brought you some water."

She didn't call him by his first name-she didn't want to cross a line. No one could guess what Dylan was thinking these days. When he wasn't in love with Clara, he was just as cold to everyone else.

Megan chose her words carefully.

Dylan didn't look up. He just said, "Leave."

Megan didn't move. She set the cup down on the table, her tone gentle. "Drink

some water. Clara's alright, you don't have to worry."

Dylan's hand paused as he slowly opened the drawer beside him.

Megan's eyes widened in shock-she caught a glimpse of a red bead bracelet inside.

It wasn't her imagination. It was the same bracelet.