His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 50

**Betrayal Births by Joseph King**
**Chapter 50**

**Claire**

I found myself staring at the plate of food for what felt like an eternity, caught in a strange limbo between laughter and disbelief. He had actually gone out of his way to prepare dinner for me. Or at the very least, he had brought it to me. This was the same boy who, not too long ago, would have reveled in the thought of watching me stumble over my own feet in public, relishing every moment of my embarrassment.

With a tentative motion, I knelt down, my fingers grazing the edge of the plate as if it were a fragile artifact. The meal was nothing extravagant—grilled chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, and a few slices of apple arranged neatly on the side. It was simple fare, but there was an undeniable layer of thoughtfulness woven into it.

And therein lay the crux of my confusion.

Why the sudden shift in his demeanor? Why was he being so considerate all of a sudden?

I picked up the tray and carried it inside, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. Settling cross-legged on my bed, I felt the weight of the food pressing down on me. My appetite had vanished hours ago, but as I continued to gaze at the meal, the knot in my chest tightened, as if it were a tangible thing, coiling tighter with each passing second.

With a reluctant sigh, I took a small bite, just to keep my hands occupied. Then, I reached for my phone, hoping to distract myself from the turmoil within.

I noticed a message from Naomi waiting for me. ‘Are you okay? You didn’t reply all day.’

I quickly typed back, ‘Yeah. Just tired.’

She responded almost immediately, ‘You sure? Want to hang out tomorrow after classes? I found a new coffee shop near the river. You’ll love it.’

The thought of spending time in a normal setting, away from the chaos of my life, sounded like a slice of heaven.

Okay, I replied, my fingers moving over the screen with newfound determination. I could definitely use that.

She sent back a flurry of heart emojis, her excitement palpable even through the screen. She promised to pick me up, and I couldn’t help but smile faintly as I finished the rest of my food in silence. The house felt eerily still, and I could sense Elijah’s presence lurking somewhere deep within its walls—steady, distant, yet undeniably there.

As the weight of the night’s events pressed down on me, I made the decision to retreat into sleep, hoping to forget the tumultuous emotions swirling within me.

Saturday mornings had always been reserved for pancakes with Mom, a cherished ritual that brought warmth to my heart. But this particular Saturday was different; I was headed to the hospital instead.

Upon entering Mom’s room, I was greeted by the sight of her sitting up in bed, her hair brushed neatly, and the color returning to her cheeks. The doctor had assured me that she would be discharged later in the day if her vitals remained stable. A wave of relief washed over me, loosening the tightness in my chest that had been there since the previous night.

We exchanged quiet words, her voice soothing as she urged me to stop worrying so much. She insisted that everything was fine and mentioned how Ethan had hardly left her side since the incident. I chose not to share the haunting images of blood on the kitchen floor that plagued my thoughts every time I closed my eyes. Instead, I nodded, offered a smile, and helped her with the small breakfast on her tray.

As she began to drift off to sleep, I pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, promising to return later. She smiled at me in that familiar way she used to when I was a little girl, just before I headed off to school, and reminded me, “Don’t forget your etiquette session with Elijah.”

A groan threatened to escape my lips, but I stifled it.

“Yeah, I remember,” I replied, trying to mask my reluctance.

The drive home was shrouded in silence, my mind racing with memories of the previous night—Elijah’s hands steadying me, the intensity in his eyes just before he kissed me. I found myself replaying the moment over and over, shaking my head as if to dispel the thoughts. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. It was a mistake, one of those fleeting moments that occur when emotions run high and clarity is lost. Nothing more.

Right.

Upon arriving home, I was greeted by an empty house, the only sound breaking the silence being the gentle clinking of dishes from the kitchen. I chose to ignore it and made my way upstairs. If I was to endure this etiquette lesson, I needed to at least appear as if I cared, even if I didn’t.

I opened my wardrobe, frowning at the chaos within. There were dresses I hadn’t even touched since moving in, a stark reminder of my disarray. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. Just a home lesson. Elijah probably didn’t want to do it either. Still, I selected a white dress adorned with tiny pearl buttons down the front and short sleeves. It was simple yet made me feel like I was putting in some effort. I brushed my hair and gathered it into a loose ponytail, hoping it would suffice.

When I finally descended the stairs, I found him in the living room, meticulously setting up the dining area as if preparing for a royal banquet. The sight caused me to pause—not so much the arrangement as the sight of him.

Elijah was shirtless.

A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his shoulders, and the morning light accentuated every sculpted muscle as he adjusted the chairs. For a solid five seconds, I forgot how to breathe. Then, realizing I was staring, I quickly looked away, nearly tripping on the last step in my haste.

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