Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 754

Clara stepped out of the conference room and nearly walked right into Mrs. Ferguson, who was waiting outside.

She froze. The last thing she remembered about Mrs. Ferguson was being dragged to a temple, only to end up nearly buried alive. Maybe Mrs. Ferguson hadn’t planned it herself, but she definitely wasn’t innocent. And it wasn’t exactly a secret that the older woman had once wanted her gone for good.

“Mrs. Ferguson,” Clara said, keeping her voice respectful for Dylan’s sake.

Mrs. Ferguson had clearly been there a while, watching Clara closely. Her attitude hadn’t completely changed, but she couldn’t help thinking—if Dylan had seen Clara just now, he probably wouldn’t have been able to look away.

But Mrs. Ferguson seemed tired of holding onto old grudges. She just let it go.

“Dylan’s sick. Thank you for taking care of him,” she said quietly.

Clara blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. Was this another trick? She didn’t answer.

Mrs. Ferguson sighed. “Clara, do you have a moment later? I want to bring you and Tara to the temple. There are some things I need to say.”

Clara didn’t even hesitate. “Last time you took me to the temple, Mrs. Ferguson, I almost didn’t make it back alive. I think I’ll pass.”

No one had ever spoken to Mrs. Ferguson so bluntly before—not that Clara was lying.

Mrs. Ferguson took a deep breath, softening her tone. “Last time, I acted out of desperation and made a mistake. This time, I swear as Dylan’s mother: if I do anything to hurt you, I’ll never see Dylan again. Ever.”

Clara didn’t love Mrs. Ferguson’s dramatic style, but one thing was obvious—the woman genuinely loved Dylan. She wouldn’t go so far otherwise.

“My work’s done for the day,” Clara said. “Can you at least tell me why you want to go to the temple?”

Clara paused. She didn’t know much about the Ferguson family’s past, but as a mother, Mrs. Ferguson’s worries made sense.

“I gave the Fergusons so many children,” Mrs. Ferguson continued, voice softer. “I never got a single kind word in return. I married him at seventeen, all wide-eyed and hopeful. Now my hair’s gray, and the nicest thing he’s ever said about me is that I’m too soft. He never respected women like me. Ten years ago, I thought I’d let it go and left the city. But somehow, I ended up back here, and nothing’s changed.”

She touched her graying hair and closed her eyes. “I thought I’d see Dylan married and go back to my own life. But he chose you. He won’t listen to me, and I just don’t have the energy to fight anymore. I still believe the temple can bring peace. If I can take you and Tara there, maybe we can all let go of the past. Tomorrow morning, I’ll leave.”

Clara lowered her gaze, thinking it over—and finally nodded. “Okay.”

Mrs. Ferguson got up, her expression softer. “You’re a good kid. I should’ve seen it sooner.”

Clara didn’t say anything else. She simply followed quietly behind her.