Clara waited until the pain faded enough for her to move. Sweat slicked her skin as she finally pushed herself up, her lips almost colorless. Simon’s voice was still in the air, but it was like she was underwater—she couldn’t catch a single word.
When he saw her stand, Simon repeated himself, sharper this time. “Are you going to say yes or not?”
Clara barely had time to open her mouth before Megan’s voice cut through.
“Clara, I have to tell you something. While I was looking after you at Palm Bay these past few days, I discovered a secret. Remember that red bead bracelet you gave your boyfriend? I found it in Mr. Dylan’s study, in one of his drawers. There was a ring too—a matching pair to the one you wear. I think it’s the couple’s ring you gave him. I have no idea why Mr. Dylan has both those things, and I don’t even want to guess. Just… please be careful, Clara. I don’t want you risking yourself for me—you’re already hurt enough.”
As she spoke, Megan was already untying the ropes around her wrists. “If you get a chance, check that drawer. I’m sure you’ll find something you need.”
The last knot slipped free, and before anyone could react, Megan dropped from the ledge.
Simon froze, staring in disbelief. He’d planned to use Megan as leverage against Clara, but Megan had taken matters into her own hands.
He lunged for the rope, yanking desperately—but there was nothing at the end. No weight. Just empty air.
He stood there, rooted, eyes fixed on the cliff’s edge, too rattled to even see where Megan had fallen. He stumbled back, pale and shaken.
“How… how is that possible?” he muttered, voice trembling. “How could she just let go like that?”
He couldn’t understand it. Then, a gunshot split the silence.
He turned slowly. Clara stood there, gun in hand, her eyes distant and cloudy. Her voice was flat, every word cutting. “Simon, you’re useless. No matter what happens, you’re always just a coward. I really thought, after everything, you might have grown up a little.”
Simon’s hand went to his stomach, blood seeping between his fingers. His face turned ghostly white.
Nothing hurt more than hearing those words from the woman you loved.
He gave a bitter, twisted laugh. “A coward? Yeah, you’ve never thought much of me, Clara. Not after all these years. So why pretend? Why act like you cared? Why string me along? Who do you think you are? My feelings mean nothing to you, and now you want to kill me? Fine! Do it. Even if I become a ghost, I’ll haunt you forever.”
He was falling apart, and he knew it.
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