The car drove onto the mountain highway, and the surrounding scenery grew quieter.
Rhys tried to find a topic to ease the atmosphere.
"The seminar went well today."
"Oh."
"I have to go to Riverstone next week for three days. There's a traffic control conference."
"Oh."
"I wanted to take advantage of these free days to take you to visit your parents. Didn't you promise you'd go back?"
Clara finally reacted.
She had promised Ms. Maeve she would visit, but she hadn't intended to bring him along. But on second thought, if she went back alone, they would worry and ask endless questions.
"When? I'll let them know ahead of time."
"Day after tomorrow."
Rhys calculated the time. "Tomorrow I'll go back to the station to close out a few cases and archive some files. I'll come pick you up the morning after next. We can buy some things Mom and Dad like on the way."
"No need to buy anything," Clara tucked her chin into the collar of her down jacket. "They haven't even touched the vintage whiskey and gift baskets you brought last time. They're simple people; too much stuff just goes to waste."
"That was last time. We can't skimp on manners."
Rhys insisted, so Clara didn't argue further.
The heater was blasting in the car, baking the scent of almond cookies until it was unmistakable.
That heritage bakery was famous precisely because of that intense aroma; you could smell it from a block away.
Clara couldn't hold it back. She sniffed the air and said, seemingly casually, "It smells like almond cookies in here."
Rhys didn't flinch. "Does it? There were some pastries at the lunch meeting; the smell probably clung to my clothes. All those flaky pastries smell about the same."
He smiled at her. "Craving them that much? We'll go buy some the day after tomorrow?"
Clara's hand inside her sleeve clenched, her fingernails digging into her palm.
The accusation on the tip of her tongue was swallowed hard.
What was the point of exposing him?
Apart from causing another fight, what result would it yield?


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