Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Growing up together, Richard had a quirky way of waking me up whenever I clung to my bed sheets too dearly. He'd sneak up to my bedside and tickle my nose with a feather. It got me up quicker than any alarm clock ever could. So, naturally, my mind often flickered to thoughts of Richard.

But my attempts to avoid these memories only seemed to spur on a more passionate invasion of my personal space.

Cold yet soft lips pressed against mine, sending a numbing sensation through my body. I pounded on the guy's chest, exclaiming, "Richard, what the hell are you doing?" "Richard, you jerk!"

The more loudly I protested, the more forceful he became.

"Richard, how could you do this to me? It hurts." Tears welled up in my eyes as a terrifying realization hit me. Then, I realized that Richard was in prison because of Claude at this very moment.

Boom! It was like a splash of cold water on my face. "Turn on the lights! Who are you?"

Panic set in. Who had entered my room and crossed those intimate boundaries?

"Claire, is Richard all you ever think about?"

Suddenly, all went quiet, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness.

Out of the silence, a deep voice I knew all too well and that chilled me to the bone, pierced the air. It was Claude!

wide awake

The bedside lamp flickered

light, I saw Claude as exposed as I was, hands braced on

I curled up, hugging my knees, stuttering, "Claude, I didn't mean to... I just... I had some warm milk. I felt strange and ended up here..." But he

a shirt, I fled his room barefoot, not daring to meet his fierce gaze again, my

blur, but by dawn, I heard Claude disposing of everything in his room that I had touched, the bedding, mattress, even the furniture, replacing them

sneaking out to get emergency contraception, a servant stopped me, relaying Claude's orders that I was not to leave the house. With Richard in jail, I was utterly alone. But I

assistant, who was there to help me.

arrived under

Beacon Hollow's famous clam chowder, Claire's favorite.

why

from outside when the Hart

tone made me

concealed pill. As I attempted to retrieve it, the food container tore, spilling its

response was a swift kick,

I demanded, reaching for the