“Mr. Dylan, Clara’s seriously hurt. Aren’t you going to check on her?”
Dylan stopped in his tracks, glancing at the woman beside him. Megan couldn’t remember the last time they’d actually looked each other in the eye like this.
Truth was, she’d had Dylan’s contact for ages—he’d even added her first. Back then, she’d been over the moon, until he messaged: “Can you update me about her now and then?”
He’d come to the school once—probably for Clara’s graduation. Clara was right in the middle of everything, soaking up everyone’s attention, complaining to anyone who’d listen about her missing uniform.
Megan had fallen for Dylan at first sight. Just one look, and she was a goner. That’s why his message had hit her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her stunned for days.
Even though she told herself she’d heard him right, she still couldn’t resist adding him back. It was Dylan, after all—there weren’t many people in the whole city who didn’t know his name.
That was when she realized that, behind all the family reputation and good looks, he could still pine for someone in secret. And for what? Clara? Just because she was the Bradford family’s precious daughter?
Jealousy dug deep, growing wild inside her. She hated that the woman Dylan cared about wasn’t her.
Now, she finally knew the truth—Clara wasn’t even a real Bradford. Just some outsider. So why was Dylan so obsessed?
It felt like fate had finally taken her side. Dylan didn’t care about Clara anymore.
Megan thought about all the times she’d messaged him, the sting of disappointment always threatening to make her cry. Every social post she wrote was carefully crafted, hoping he’d notice her. But the only time he ever liked her posts was when they were about Clara.
And every time he hit that like button, she’d be happy for days.
She’d even started slipping little glimpses of herself into her Clara updates, but after all these years, Dylan still only saw Clara.
Now Megan’s eyes were rimmed red, her jealousy written all over her face as she stared at him. She didn’t even try to hide it.
Dylan frowned, as if trying to remember who Megan was even talking about.
Seeing his confusion, Megan realized—he’d not only stopped caring, he’d actually forgotten Clara.
“Fine, Mr. Dylan. If you’re not going, I’ll look after Clara myself.”
Dylan didn’t say a word. He just turned, grabbed his folder, and walked away.
Megan watched him leave, wishing she could somehow burn that image into her memory forever. She didn’t turn away until his car disappeared from the driveway. Only then did she finally head upstairs to find Clara.
Clara was still sitting on her bed, lost in thought, staring at nothing.
Megan couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Mr. Dylan just got home. I told him to come see you, but he wouldn’t—he acted like he didn’t even know you. Clara, was your fight with him really that bad?”
Clara summed up the last few days in less than a minute, then looked at Megan. “Thank you, Megan.”
If it hadn’t been for Megan, she probably wouldn’t have survived that night.
Megan’s heart skipped. If she’d known there’d be so many people out to kill Clara, she would have left her behind—maybe then she’d never have to see her again.
She really did regret it for a second, but she was always careful. After a few moments, she put on her most worried face.
“So what now? Walter’s treating you like this, and he’s not holding back with Mr. Dylan either. Are you really planning to hide away in Palm Bay forever?”
Clara looked out the window. The truth was, she had no idea what to do next.
Dylan’s short visit was probably just a test from the old man, to see if he’d really moved on.
The guy trailing Dylan would report everything back.
Clearly, the old man was happy—Dylan had forgotten her so completely he didn’t even look her in the eye. It was like she was a total stranger to him now.
Just thinking about it made something in Clara’s chest ache, like her heart was breaking all over again.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run