His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 13

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**
**Chapter 13**

**Claire’s POV**

As I stirred awake, it felt as though a massive truck had barreled into me, leaving nothing but a heavy, aching shell in its wake. My limbs felt leaden, each movement a monumental effort, while a relentless throbbing pulsed at my temples. The familiar, exhausting weight settled in my chest, a reminder of the fainting spell that had stolen my consciousness the night before.

This was the routine I had come to dread—three long days of feeling as if my body was merely a patchwork of tape and hope, barely holding together.

There was no way I could face school today.

Not that I had any desire to go back anyway. Learning was something I genuinely enjoyed, but the thought of navigating the hallways filled with judgmental stares and whispered remarks about the “sick girl” who had collapsed at a party made my stomach churn. I could easily do without that kind of attention.

Just then, a gentle knock on my door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Come in,” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper.

The door creaked open, and in walked Mom, accompanied by one of the house staff, Maria, who was balancing a tray laden with food. The delightful aroma wafted through the air, stirring my stomach to life, even though I was reluctant to admit I was hungry.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mom said, her tone soft and soothing. “How are you feeling? Did you manage to sleep at all?”

I nodded slowly, not yet trusting my voice to convey the truth.

“Maria, you can set that on the table. Thank you,” Mom instructed, her gaze lingering on me as she waited for the room to clear.

Once we were alone, she perched herself on the edge of my bed, concern etched across her features. “Claire, did something happen with your friends last night?”

My stomach plummeted at her question. “Why do you ask?”

“Lily and June called me around midnight. They mentioned some sort of misunderstanding and then you went offline completely. They were worried about you…”

Of course, they had gone to Mom. Guilt must have gnawed at them after June’s careless comment, and they probably wanted to ensure I hadn’t vanished into thin air.

“It’s nothing serious,” I mumbled, hoping to brush it off.

“Promise me you’ll call them back today,” Mom urged, her eyes searching mine for honesty. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can work it out. Good friends are rare and precious…”

“Sure.” The lie slipped from my lips effortlessly.

I had no intention of reaching out to them anytime soon.

Mom seemed satisfied with my response, a hint of relief washing over her. She stood up and carefully placed the food tray across my lap.

“I woke up early to make you breakfast,” she said, lifting the cover to reveal a delightful spread of fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh berries.

“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble,” I said, genuinely taken aback.

It had been months since Mom had cooked for me—ever since Dad passed away and she had been juggling multiple jobs. Most of the time, it was Lily and June who ended up preparing meals for me.

“Yes, I did,” she replied, her voice steady yet warm. “You’re my only child, and your well-being is my responsibility. I wanted to do this to remind you how much I still care about you…”

A tight knot in my chest began to loosen, just a fraction.

“Claire, you need to understand that there is no one else in this world who could ever take your place in my life…” she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know you’re feeling jealous about my relationship with Ethan, but please believe me when I say that everything I’m doing is for both of us. I want you to be okay. I want us to have a future where you don’t have to worry about medical bills or…”

“I know, Mom…” The words slipped out softer than I had intended. “I overreacted yesterday, and I’m sorry. I want you to be happy too…”

Mom’s face transformed with relief, a weight visibly lifting from her shoulders.

“It’s just…” I inhaled deeply, feeling the tremor in my voice. “I wish things were different. Maybe if Dad hadn’t died… you wouldn’t have to take on responsibilities you never wanted. But if this makes you happy, then I’ll find a way to be happy too…”

That was mostly true. A pang of discomfort still lingered about the entire situation, but seeing Mom smile genuinely warmed my heart.

She leaned in for a careful hug, mindful of my fragile state.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. More than you could ever know…”

“I love you too, Mom.”

She pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Now eat your breakfast, take your medications, and make sure to get some quality rest. Doctor’s orders…”

I picked up my fork and began to eat the pancakes, savoring their fluffy sweetness, reminiscent of the ones Dad used to make on lazy Sunday mornings.

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