His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 43

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Chapter 43**

**Claire’s POV**

I stirred awake, the delicate fragrance of lilies wafting through the air, pulling me from the depths of slumber.

The sterile, clinical scent of the hospital had been replaced by a small bouquet resting on my bedside table—a thoughtful gesture from Naomi, I was certain.

Sunlight streamed through the partially drawn blinds, casting a warm golden glow that danced gently across the blanket enveloping me. My body felt weighed down, as if I were wrapped in lead, but the sharp pain that had once gripped my chest had miraculously faded.

A soft knock broke the silence, and the door creaked open to reveal Naomi, who entered cautiously, clutching a paper cup of coffee as if it were a lifeline. Her eyes, rimmed with dark circles, betrayed her exhaustion, and her ponytail hung in disarray. Relief and guilt mingled on her face, creating a complex expression that tugged at my heart.

“You look like death warmed over,” she remarked, her voice weak but managing a lopsided smile.

I nearly chuckled, but the effort felt monumental. “You’re one to talk,” I replied, my voice hoarse.

Setting the coffee cup on the table, she sank into the chair beside my bed, her gaze fixed on me as if she needed to reassure herself that I was indeed alive.

“I thought I lost you,” she finally whispered, her voice quavering with raw emotion.

A tightness gripped my chest at her words. “You didn’t,” I assured her, though uncertainty flickered in my mind.

“Yeah, well…” She bit her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You scared the crap out of me. One moment, I’m waiting by the car, and the next, Elijah is carrying you out like you’d just—” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard. “Please, don’t ever do that again, okay?”

“I didn’t exactly plan it, Naomi,” I replied, a hint of frustration creeping into my tone.

A shaky laugh escaped her lips, but then silence enveloped us—an unsettling quiet. Her gaze dropped to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.

I recognized that look. It was the unmistakable sign that she was grappling with something unsaid.

“Naomi.” My voice emerged softer than I anticipated. “What is it?”

She hesitated, casting a wary glance at the closed door as if to ensure our conversation remained private. Leaning closer, she whispered, “It’s Jessica.”

“That bitch almost killed you,” I said, disbelief flooding my veins.

I blinked, struggling to comprehend her words. “What?”

“She’s the one who rigged your locker. I overheard her bragging about it right after they rushed you here.” Naomi’s voice trembled, not from fear but from an intense fury. “She was laughing about it, Claire. Laughing. She said it was payback for ‘stealing her spotlight’ and for ‘making Elijah pity you.'”

I froze, my mind racing to catch up with the shocking revelation. Jessica. I knew she despised me, but was her hatred truly that deep?

My breath hitched, my pulse quickening. “You—you’re sure?”

“She didn’t even try to hide it!” Naomi’s voice rose, then quickly dropped as she glanced anxiously at the door. “She was chatting with her stupid friends in the hallway. I walked by and heard everything. She claimed she only meant to scare you, not to nearly fry your pathetic heart out, as she put it. Goddess, I nearly punched her right then and there.”

The room swayed for a moment, the edges of my vision blurring with a rush of heat. “She almost killed me,” I whispered, the weight of the words crashing down on me.

Naomi nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah. She did.”

The reality of the situation settled heavily in the room. The words “shock everyone” echoed cruelly in my mind. Jessica.

Of course.

“She tried to kill me,” I murmured, barely able to voice the horrifying truth.

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