Lies That Breathe
The search for Eleanor stretched into its second day. Ethan had barely slept; Clara hadn't eaten. The mansion felt haunted — by absence, by suspicion, by the ghost of trust.
Damien came by with updates. "We found tire marks near the south gate. Private transport, tinted windows — clean job."
Ethan nodded. "Isabella?"
"Untouchable for now," Damien replied. "She's covering her tracks well."
Clara lingered near the doorway, listening. Her heart ached watching them — Ethan and Damien working side by side, the same man who'd once been Ethan's rival now the only person he trusted.
Later that night, Clara walked past Isabella's room and froze. She heard whispering — Isabella's voice, low and vicious.
"…she'll break soon. And when she does, Ethan will see who the real threat is."
Clara's breath caught. She backed away quietly — only to bump into Victoria.
"Clara?" Victoria frowned. "What are you doing here?"
Clara shook her head quickly. "Nothing. Just… passing by."
Victoria studied her face — saw the fear, the exhaustion — and, for the first time, didn't scold her. "Get some rest," she said softly.
When Clara reached her room, tears slipped down her cheeks.
She didn't know which was worse — that Eleanor was gone, or that Ethan might never believe her innocence again.
And somewhere far away, bound and bruised, Eleanor whispered into the dark,
> "Please… someone tell them the truth before it's too late."