Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

A hint of sweetness bloomed in her chest, then vanished just as quickly, leaving a sharp ache behind. Clara set down her toothbrush, splashed some water on her face, and tried to steady her nerves.

When she walked into the living room, he was already there, sitting quietly on the couch.

After a good night's sleep, the coldness he'd carried yesterday had faded a bit. He kept his eyes down, then slid a cup of soy milk across the table to her without saying a word.

Clara sat beside him, took a sip, then finally asked, "Last night when I went out, your grandfather's people stopped following me. Did you do something?"

Had he finally decided to cut ties with the old man?

"I told him to stay at the family estate," Dylan replied, his voice calm but with layers she couldn't quite read.

Clara looked him up and down, suspicious. "And what about the Ferguson family overseas?"

She knew his grandfather's influence in the Capital ran deep-there was no way he'd give up on Dylan so easily. This sudden calm felt like the calm before a storm, as if everyone was just waiting for something. But for what, exactly? No one knew.

He and Dylan were at a standstill. Neither side was winning.

"Rai's gone back," Dylan said. "To him, I'll be returning to North America in a month, so for now, he's not paying much attention to me."

She couldn't help but lean closer. "But isn't that dangerous? Dylan,

around his fork, so

frowned, her voice soft but insistent. "Did it never cross your mind to bring me

had to wonder, did he mean it? If he did, how could he not think about her at

"If you want to,

they did nothing every day but watch the plants grow

she didn't want to, only then would he let

to have

always known his dreams wouldn't work out,

now-Dylan didn't want much from life. She edged

goal is to clear up

maybe find out about my birth parents.

have

He stayed silent.

raised an eyebrow. "Don't

he really just going to do