His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 95

**Chapter 95**

**Claire’s POV**

Perched on the edge of my bed, I find myself lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall. The tightness in my chest from earlier refuses to fade—the confrontation with Naomi still echoes in my mind, along with Elijah’s infuriating smirk during training. The October evening had felt unusually warm, almost stifling, as if the air itself was conspiring against me. Just then, my phone screen lights up, shattering the silence.

June is calling.

A jolt of anxiety twists in my stomach, and before I can collect my thoughts, another name flashes beneath hers.

Lily.

Together. As if they’ve orchestrated a surprise attack from a past I can only vaguely recall.

My thumb hovers hesitantly above the screen. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t feel like I’m about to step onto a stage without a script. They’re just girls. My friends. Or at least they were.

But still, my heart races, a quiet thrum echoing against my collarbone.

With a deep breath, I force myself to swipe the green icon.

The call connects, and for a moment, silence envelops us.

“…Claire?”

It’s June. Her voice is instantly recognizable, warm yet edged with something sharp, as if she’s trying to mask her concern.

“Claire, oh my God, finally!” Lily bursts in, her tone urgent and breathless. “Why haven’t you picked up? We’ve been calling you literally every hour!”

“I—hey.” My voice comes out embarrassingly soft, almost a whisper.

There’s a pause, thick with confusion.

“Hey?” June repeats, her disbelief palpable. “Girl, are you okay? Why do you sound like you don’t know who we are?”

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on me. Here we go.

“I kind of… don’t,” I confess, my voice barely above a murmur.

Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating, as if both girls have just had the wind knocked out of them.

“…Claire,” Lily whispers, her voice trembling, “what does that mean?”

I take a slow, deliberate breath, gathering my thoughts. “I had an accident. Two weeks ago.”

Their gasps come in unison, as if they had rehearsed this moment.

“What accident?” June demands, her voice rising in pitch. “Why didn’t anyone tell us? Are you hurt? Did you faint again? Did someone hit you?”

“June,” Lily interjects sharply, “let her talk!”

“I’m fine.” The word feels like a lie, but I cling to it. “I was walking home. A car… hit me. Or maybe I hit the car. I don’t really know. They said someone pushed me out of the way before I could react.”

“Oh my God,” Lily breathes, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern.

“I woke up with memory loss,” I continue, trying to steady my voice. “Not total… but a lot of things. Important things. People.”

A soft curse escapes June’s lips.

“You could’ve died,” she murmurs, her voice cracking, revealing the depth of her worry.

“I know.” The truth of it settles in my chest like a cold stone—quiet but impossible to ignore.

“What about your heart?” Lily blurts out. “Are you stable? Did the doctors say anything? Was the accident caused by—”

“No.” I interrupt gently, trying to calm their rising panic. “It wasn’t my heart this time. Just… bad luck. Wrong place, wrong moment.”

Both girls exhale shakily, the tension easing slightly.

“God, Claire,” June groans, the relief evident in her voice. “You’re not allowed to traumatize us like this.”

A soft laugh escapes me, startled but genuine. “I didn’t exactly plan it.”

“You could’ve at least texted,” Lily grumbles, her tone half-serious. “Like ‘hey, I’m alive, brb.’”

“I didn’t have my phone.”

“And your brain apparently exited the chat,” June adds, trying to lighten the mood.

“Exactly.”

Their laughter fills the air, and for a brief moment, warmth seeps into the cold space inside my chest.

“But seriously,” Lily says quietly, “how are you… really?”

How am I?

I lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the familiar patterns swirling above me. “Confused. Tired. Everything here feels familiar yet wrong at the same time. Like someone rearranged my entire life while I was asleep.”

“That sounds awful,” June murmurs, her empathy palpable.

“It is,” I admit, the weight of my reality crashing down on me. “Some days, I wake up and it feels like the walls are breathing.”

“That’s dramatic,” Lily remarks, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“It’s true.”

“Okay, fine, but still dramatic,” she concedes, a smile evident in her tone.

I huff a laugh, feeling lighter.

“So…” June ventures, attempting casualness but failing. “How’s Elijah?”

Oh boy.

I hesitate, and she pounces on my pause.

“A pause? A PAUSE? Claire, what does that mean?”

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