She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to rub away the tiredness clinging to her. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all—her mind was foggy, buzzing with scattered memories she couldn’t quite catch.
All she really wanted was to crawl back under the covers, but Charles’s voice cut through her daze.
“So, who’s after you this time? How many people did they send?” he asked, sounding way too upbeat for this conversation. “Sis, since your big brother’s here, why don’t we go settle the score? You don’t look so great, either. Come on, let’s get some air.”
It took Clara a second to really see him, her brain slow to catch up. “Bro?” she echoed, puzzled.
Charles, as clueless as ever, didn’t notice anything off about her. He just grinned, eyes shining. “Yeah! So are you coming or not? I swear, those guys’ clothes looked familiar… Like, I’ve seen them before—maybe when I was out, uh… doing my thing.”
He talked about killing people like it was nothing, then suddenly slapped his forehead. “Wait, that’s it! Sis, I think I’ve got a lead. Want to go get even?”
Clara glanced down at the diamonds in her lap—she wasn’t sure what was going on, but figured she might as well take what she could get.
She managed a small smile. “Alright.”
Charles practically dragged her out of bed and over to the table.
Ryan, totally in sync, scooped up the diamonds and tucked them away.
Charles took a drink of water and launched into his story. “A few years ago, I took someone out. Can’t remember his name—there’ve been too many. He tried to move in on Mitch’s territory in North America. Normally, Mitch wouldn’t care about small-time guys like that, but this idiot started bragging when he was drunk—said he’d hooked up with the Chester family’s princess. Bad move. She’s off-limits. Mitch lost it and sent me all the way to Country Z. The guy was hiding out somewhere remote. The people there wore the same outfits as those guys earlier. Some village—I can’t remember the name. There was a rehab center, too. Creepy place.”
A rehab center?
Clara’s brow furrowed—she felt like she should remember something about that.
She massaged her forehead again, and suddenly, a memory flickered to life. She turned to Ryan. “Where’s Emily?”
Ryan jumped up and hurried to the kitchen.
Emily was inside, earbuds in, standing over a bubbling pot. She pulled out her earbuds as soon as she saw him. “Ryan, what’s going on?”
Clara finished it in a single gulp, setting the empty bowl aside. “Emily, what’s the name of your village?”
Emily remembered Clara had promised to look into the rehab center once they were back in the Capital.
A warm, grateful look crossed her face. “It doesn’t have a name anymore. It used to, years ago, but after they built the rehab center, it literally got erased from the map. Most people moved away—no one ever comes back. There’s only one road in, and the center controls everything. Even the driver is one of their people, so outsiders can’t get in. Clara, you actually climbed over a bunch of hills to sneak in. Don’t you remember?”
Clara really didn’t.
She rubbed her forehead again. Whatever. She’d always believed in giving as good as she got—if someone was coming for her, she’d just have to settle the score her own way.
Ryan stood nearby, shifting awkwardly as he watched the cold determination flicker across her face. He pressed his lips together, not daring to ask why Clara had Dylan saved in her phone as “Husband.”
And since she’d woken up, Clara hadn’t mentioned it once. The whole thing just felt… strange.

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