Chapter 3

She didn't know who else to turn to for the $2,000 she desperately needed, so by nine that evening, she found herself dialing Dylan's number once more, albeit

reluctantly.

A deep, cold voice, reminiscent of snow crunching underfoot in winter, answered. "Clara?"-

Clara felt an invisible hand squeeze her throat, a wave of helplessness crashing over her. "Hey, Dylan, could you lend me $20,000? I'm at the hospital and can't cover the medical bills."

From the other end, she could hear his steady breathing and the faint rustle of fabric. Just when Clara braced herself for a refusal, he surprised her by asking, "What's your account number?"

"I... let me find it."

She frantically grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, terrified he might hang up. The nurse had assured her it was hers, but it seemed to contain only makeup essentials. Finally, she found a bank card hidden in the innermost pocket and quickly relayed the number to him.

on

she lingered in silence, unsure of what to say next. Miraculously, Dylan didn't hang up either. The only connection between them now was the faint sound of their breaths over the

"Dylan, I..."

"Are you badly hurt?"

of concern-the kind she had longed for since waking up. Touched but at a loss for words, she managed to say, "I'm okay now. Thanks. I'll figure out

how long do you plan on deceiving

a beat, and she hastily ended the call, her thoughts swirling. What did he mean by that? Had she lied to Dylan

hospital entrance, she felt lost, unsure of where to go next. She had no money and no clue

dropped her off at a stunning house with an impeccably maintained garden. The driver tapped the steering wheel. "A hundred bucks, cash

feeling awkward, just as a luxury car pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Simon's face, with

concerned. "Clara, are you

dress sparkled with tiny gems and her handbag was a limited edition,

you? Dylan is your boyfriend." Quinn's eyes welled up. "Are you here to cause trouble

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