Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara looked like she'd just stepped out of a rainstorm, her hair damp and her skin sticky with sweat. "Can you get me some painkillers, please?" she asked quietly, her voice thin with exhaustion.

The housekeeper hurried off and came back with a couple of pills and a glass of water.

Clara swallowed them, then let herself sink back onto the bed.

She'd been feeling off for days now. Little flashes of memory kept flickering through her mind, never staying long enough to make sense. She couldn't shake the feeling that something important was about to surface.

Tonight, after Megan's pointed words, her head was throbbing so badly she could barely think straight.

Dylan sat by her bedside in silence, watching her.

Clara didn't have the energy to ask any of the million questions swirling in her head: Was Walter okay? Why had Dylan shown up so suddenly? Why hadn't the old man's people made a move tonight like everyone expected?

There were just too many questions. It was overwhelming.

The room was quiet. The housekeeper slipped in and spoke in a low voice, "Sir, aren't you going to get some sleep?"

Dylan looked out the window, where night pressed against the glass. It was four in the morning, and there was still over an hour before sunrise.

"No," he said simply.

housekeeper seemed like she wanted to say more, but she

not taking his eyes off Clara until

few seconds before they fluttered shut

curled his hand into a fist, then let it go, repeating the motion

housekeeper knocked gently. "Sir, you should eat something. Your

lowered his gaze, pressing a

too busy dealing with the

be different he always listened to Mrs. Ferguson.

and Aiden

the

estate felt cold and

two days. When she finally woke up for real, Dylan was

herself to eat

"When did Dylan leave?"

head. "Ma'am, I've been wanting

the whole time. His stomach started bothering him