Following Clara closely, lan's face was a mask of concern. He rubbed her back gently as they made their way to the bathroom. He asked, "What's wrong, love? Have you been overworking yourself lately? Skipping meals? Maybe we should head to the hospital, just to be safe?"

Hunched over the toilet, Clara heaved a few times, but nothing came up. Her eyes were bloodshot from the effort. She gave her head a slight shake. "I'm okay. I just need some Pepto-Bismol, and I'll be fine." lan wasn't convinced. His large hand came to rest on her forehead, feeling for a fever. "I'm calling the doctor over. I can't relax seeing you like this."

"It's just an old stomach issue, nothing new. A bowl of hot chicken noodle soup should set me right," Clara insisted.

From the doorway, Casey appeared, drawn by the commotion. "Clara, what's all this about? You're not—"

knew his daughter's health all too well. There was little chance she'd conceive even after three months with

forcing a smile for her father's sake.

Come have some.

me just help Clara get

was busy fetching plates, ladling soup, and serving with a diligence that made Clara

to the Bells and the punishment for Leonora. He looked at Casey with a face full of guilt, his voice tinged with an unspoken sorrow. "I'm so sorry for the hurt this has caused you and

twisted his heart. He liked lan and believed he was the right match

could have lived longer. Your mother's words caused him pain in his final moments, and that's probably the hardest thing for Clara to bear. Give her time to process this. Your birth mother was the perpetrator,

if Clara left lan, it would break her heart. Yet,

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