His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 87

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Chapter 87**

**Claire’s POV**

The dawn of the following day unfolded with an unsettling stillness that seemed to wrap around me like a heavy blanket.

As I stood before the mirror, my hands moved almost mechanically, gathering my hair into a loose ponytail. I tried to convince myself that this morning was just like any other, that the routine of getting ready for school would somehow restore the normalcy I craved. Yet, the uniform felt uncomfortably stiff against my skin, its fabric brushing against the remnants of bruises that were slowly fading, each one a painful reminder of the chaos that had recently engulfed my life.

Just as I reached for my bag, the door creaked open, and there stood Elijah, a jacket draped over his arm, his hair still damp from his morning shower. He didn’t utter a word at first; he simply regarded me with that familiar, inscrutable expression that always left me guessing. Then, he stepped closer, extending the jacket toward me.

“You’ll need this,” he said, his voice steady.

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Why?”

He inclined his head toward the window, and I followed his gaze. Outside, the sky was already thick with clouds, a foreboding blanket of gray rolling low over the trees. The light outside was dim, casting an eerie shadow even though it was still early, barely past seven.

“Oh,” I murmured, taking the jacket from him. It carried the faint scent of cedar and soap, an aroma that inexplicably tightened my chest.

Silence enveloped us as we stepped out of the house. The cool air greeted me, the wind brushing lightly against my cheek, a refreshing contrast to the turmoil swirling inside me.

The road ahead wound through the trees, and although I couldn’t recall walking it before, an inexplicable pull tugged at my heart—a gentle, steady ache that felt oddly familiar.

As we neared the school, the sounds of life began to crescendo around us. Doors slammed shut, students called out to one another, and the shuffle of feet echoed in the air. Elijah walked beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, the silence between us stretching like a taut string. Every few moments, I caught him glancing sideways, as if he were trying to decipher the emotions etched on my face.

Upon entering the hallway, the sudden assault of scents hit me—the sharp tang of floor polish mingling with the musty scent of paper. It was a strange cocktail of familiarity and disorientation, leaving me momentarily frozen in place. Elijah nudged my arm gently, urging me forward.

“Come on,” he said softly, and I fell into step beside him.

We slipped into the classroom just as the teacher pivoted from the board. Her eyes widened slightly upon seeing me. “Claire,” she said, her tone a blend of warmth and relief. “It’s wonderful to see you back. We were starting to worry. Welcome.”

I managed a small, forced smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She nodded, gesturing toward the front of the room. “You still have that project with Leo and Elijah, remember? It’s due in five days now.”

I turned my head, scanning the room until my gaze landed on a familiar face. Leo was seated near the window, his smile a mix of awkwardness and warmth. He raised a hand, almost shyly, and I returned the gesture, unsure if I was expected to say anything. Instead, I nodded and took a seat next to Elijah.

As the teacher resumed her notes, I found myself staring blankly at the board, pretending to absorb the lesson. My fingers tapped rhythmically against my notebook, a futile attempt to anchor myself.

What was worse—

the fact that I couldn’t remember most of these people, or that they all seemed to know me?

A few moments later, a girl slid into the seat beside mine. She had curly hair and an easy smile that seemed to light up the space around her.

“Finally,” she whispered, her voice laced with relief. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you’d fallen off the planet.”

Fragments of her name danced in my mind. Naomi. Somehow, it lingered there, a sliver of familiarity amidst the chaos. “I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, struggling to find the right words. “Things have been… a lot.”

Before she could respond, Elijah shifted slightly, his gaze sharpening. He didn’t speak, but his expression spoke volumes. Naomi’s smile faltered, and she picked up her bag, standing abruptly.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said quietly, and with that, she walked away, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.

The rest of the morning slipped by in a blur, a cacophony of sounds that I couldn’t quite grasp. The teacher’s voice faded into the background, a mere hum that I couldn’t focus on. Each time I tried to concentrate, my thoughts drifted, and I found myself staring at my hands, wondering how many times they had performed these same tasks before—writing, erasing, flipping through pages—how much of it had vanished into the ether of my memory.

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