Chapter 5: Clara’s Vigil
Back in the master suite, Arthur lay propped up against silk pillows, breathing heavily. Nora stood by the bedside, pouring a fresh glass of water. Her face was a mask of calculated serenity, but her eyes darted nervously toward the hallway.
"You're safe here, Arthur," Nora murmured, handing him the glass. "Don't listen to that violent stranger downstairs. He only wants to hurt you."
Arthur stared blankly at the water, his fingers twitching against the blanket. For a fleeting second, clarity flashed across his weathered face. He knocked the glass away, sending it crashing onto the tray with a sharp clatter.
"Get out, Nora," Arthur rasped, his voice unexpectedly strong. "I know... I know what you did to my son."
Nora’s mask slipped, a flash of pure venom crossing her features. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. "You signed those papers years ago, old man. Your son is a ghost, and legally, this entire estate belongs to me. Cross me again, and you won't even live to see the sunrise."
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Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, Clara recorded every word on her hidden phone. Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from the realization of the danger they were all in. She had to find John, and fast.
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