Chapter 7
Two days later, the rain had cleared, leaving behind a sharp, brilliant autumn morning that painted the suburban streets in shades of amber and gold. Clara sat on a wooden bench in the public park three blocks from her father’s house, clutching a paper cup of hot tea between her hands. Her maroon dress was covered by a heavy trench coat, and her blonde hair fluttered gently in the crisp morning breeze. She was waiting, though she hadn't told Arthur about this meeting. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a text message from an unknown number—Elena’s number, which she had copied from the police report left on her kitchen counter before her father threw it in the trash. Clara hesitated for a heartbeat, her thumb hovering over the screen, before tapping the reply button. She had spent the last forty-eight hours listening to Arthur pace the hallways of the empty house, muttering about betrayal and financial ruin, and she knew there was another side to the story that her father was willfully ignoring.
A pair of familiar brown boots stopped on the pavement in front of her bench, and Clara looked up to see Elena standing there, wearing the same olive-green jacket over black pants, her dark hair secured in its usual neat knot. Elena looked tired, the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced in the unforgiving morning sunlight, but her posture was upright and steady.
"Thank you for coming, Clara," Elena said softly, remaining standing as she assessed the younger woman's physical comfort. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine, just... tired of the shouting at home," Clara admitted, gesturing for Elena to sit down on the bench.
Elena sat down, keeping a respectful distance, her hands tucked deep into her jacket pockets. "Your father won't stop until he convinces himself I’m the villain in all of this. It’s easier for him than facing what actually happened to David."
Clara winced slightly at the mention of her missing brother. "Dad refuses to even talk about David anymore. Ever since the business accounts were audited and the money disappeared, he’s been... different. He blames you because you were David's partner in the photography studio."
"We were business partners, Clara. Not accomplices," Elena said, her voice dropping an octave, carrying a ring of absolute truth. "David drained our commercial accounts and skipped the state two weeks before the lease renewal. I lost everything in that studio just like your father lost his investment. The only difference is, Arthur has a house to retreat into, and I was sleeping on a floor until I found that rental."
Clara listened in silence, watching a stray leaf drift down to land between their feet. She believed Elena; the sincerity in her voice was undeniable, cutting through the toxic narrative her father had spun for months. But believing Elena didn't solve the practical crisis hanging over their family like a thundercloud.
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"My father is planning to take legal action against you, Elena," Clara said quietly, turning to look her straight in the eye. "He thinks you helped David hide the funds before he left. He hired a private investigator yesterday."
Elena let out a short, humorless breath, shaking her head slowly. "Let him hire ten investigators. They won't find anything because there's nothing to find. David left me with fifty thousand dollars in unpaid debt and a stack of broken promises."
