Chapter 4

Clara's POV

The lights in that room never went out.

Guards stood watch outside the door, checking constantly through the glass pane to see if I was awake.

Whenever the boy threw a tantrum, I had to drag myself up to pat him back to sleep, over and over, all through the night.

No one was allowed to take my place. Anyone who tried was turned away at the door.

I hauled myself up time and time again. I could barely keep my eyes open, yet I still had to reach out and check his forehead for a fever.

Every time my feet touched the floor, a soft noise clicked from just outside the door.

At the time, I didn't pay attention to what that sound was. All I knew was that I had been jolted awake yet again.

I remembered what he had told me years ago: even if I caused the biggest disaster on earth, he would stand in front of me and handle it.

I was young back then. I believed every word. I treated him as the only person in the entire world I could ever lean on.

I held onto that promise for over a decade, pulling it out to comfort myself whenever things got hard.

Now, the man holding me hostage in this room was him.

Turns out that promise had an expiration date. It expired the exact moment someone else walked into his life.

Propping myself up against the headboard, I let out a dry laugh that ended in silent tears.

By the time several days had passed, I completely lost track of time.

The fluorescent lights burned overhead day and night. I couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon. All I knew was that if the child cried, I soothed him; if he stopped, I sat there. The second I drifted off, he’d scream again.

Once, completely running on empty, I slumped against the edge of the bed clutching a blanket, dosing off for a second.

The guard outside instantly tapped on the glass. Not loud, but enough to wake me.

I stood straight back up.

My stomach burned with hunger, but when meals were pushed through the door, I could barely force down two bites before nausea hit. The trays sat there, growing cold, until the staff cleared them away.

That afternoon, the door swung open.

Serena walked in.

The delicate, innocent act she put on downstairs was completely gone. She sat down in the armchair, crossing her legs, looking me up and down like I was dirt.

The boy lay on the bed, turning his head toward me to snap, "Why haven't you dropped dead yet? Once you're dead, no one will steal Daddy from me!"

I stood beside the bed, my hand freezing mid-air.

A kid that age couldn't come up with those words on his own. Someone had clearly been whispering them into his ear.

Serena smiled, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

She signaled for a maid to bring in the cardboard box from my room, tipped it open, and dumped everything onto the floor right in front of me.

My watch hit the tile with a sharp clink, and a folded note drifted down by my feet.

"Look at all this junk," Serena said languidly. "Clara, you're just an orphan. What makes you think you deserve things that never belonged to you?"

I crouched down to gather my belongings.

"Look at that watch," Serena said, tapping the floor with the tip of her designer heel. "He gave you that, right? I have one too. Mine is much nicer."

"Go on, pick them up," she watched me crouch on the floor. "Clean every last bit up."

"These belong to me," I said, keeping my head down.

"Yours?" Serena laughed mockingly. "Everything in this house belongs to the Sterlings. What makes you think anything is yours?"

I had heard that exact sentence twice in two days—once from Julian's mouth, and once from hers. They sounded exactly alike.

"He gave me this watch, and he wrote this note," I said, picking up the watch from the floor. "You say you have a watch from him too, but is your watch the same as mine?"

The smirk on Serena's face froze for a fraction of a second.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She quickly plastered the sweet smile back on. "He bought you a watch, and he bought me one too. He wrote you notes, and he'll write them for me from now on."

"Then wait for him to do it," I said, tucking the watch into my pocket. "Once he writes you one, then you can come compare yourself to me."

Serena's smile completely vanished, her eyes locked onto the watch tucked against my chest for a long, silent moment.

"If you can have it," Serena said, kicking the cardboard box aside with her toe, "why shouldn't I?"

I kept my head down, smoothing out the crumpled note before tucking it securely into my sleeve.

If people in this house hated seeing me live comfortably, then I would leave. Simple as that.

Serena stood up, walked to the doorway, and deliberately turned back to instruct the guards stationed outside. "Whenever the boy wakes up tonight, wake her up immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," the guard outside replied.

Over the next few days, I lost count of how many times I was forced awake.

The faint clicking of a pen taking notes outside the door never seemed to stop.

I barely slept. I could hardly force a single bite of food down my throat.

By the end, my hands were shaking so violently that I couldn't even hold a glass of water, spilling it all over myself.

I tried to stand up, but my knees gave out from beneath me, and I collapsed against the edge of the bed.

Right before everything went black, I heard someone shout from the hallway, followed by frantic, chaotic footsteps rushing toward the door.

My last conscious thought was a quiet relief: *Finally, I can get some sleep.*