Clara couldn’t help but worry, too. All those old alternative medicine experts had died—that had to mean someone had discovered something, something serious enough to send people all the way out there. She had a feeling someone was already watching her.
She was exposed now, while whoever was behind this stayed hidden. Better to be careful than sorry.
“Clara, if you ever have to leave New York, promise me you’ll tell me first,” Ryan said.
He hated feeling like this—always the last to know what was going on with her, like she was living in a world he couldn’t reach.
“Yeah,” she replied.
Clara was already at the door when she suddenly stopped, a question tugging at her. “Ryan, are you sure I never told you anything about Dylan? Even the tiniest detail?”
She’d asked him before, but she still couldn’t shake her curiosity about her past with Dylan.
“Not a thing,” Ryan said.
Clara nodded, headed back to her car, and remembered something she’d written to herself once: Don’t trust Dylan.
She must have really been on guard around him back then. Why else would she write something like that?
She rubbed her forehead, knowing there was no point overthinking it. If she wanted answers, she’d have to go straight to the source.
She took a deep breath and dialed Dylan.
He picked up but didn’t say a word.
Sometimes, Dylan’s silence was enough to drive her crazy.
“Dylan, come to my place. I need to talk. I’m not going to Palm Bay for now. I’ll wait for you until ten tonight. If you don’t show, I’m leaving New York,” she said.
It was a threat, even if she had no idea where she’d go if she actually left the city.
Dylan stayed quiet and just hung up.
Clara headed home.
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