When Clara got home, she found a guy sitting by her door. As she got closer, she realized it was Ryan.
Scarlette’s door was open too, and when she saw Clara, she let out a relieved sigh. “Clara, thank goodness you’re back. Your brother’s been out here like he's at a wake for the last half hour.”
Ryan jumped up, clearly embarrassed. “Don’t exaggerate! I was just knocking for a bit.”
Scarlette rubbed her temples, “Ryan, do you even know what time it is? It’s 2 AM. You've been knocking for thirty minutes. If I weren’t the only one on this floor, someone would've called the cops by now.”
Ryan couldn’t argue because Clara had been missing for nearly eight hours, and he was really worried. Without her phone, he had no idea where to start looking for her.
Now, finally seeing her, determination sparked in his eyes. “Clara! Where have you been? You need to dump that lousy boyfriend of yours. You have no idea how awful he is!”
Thinking about how he was left behind made Ryan’s cheeks flush with anger.
Clara found it amusing and apologized to Scarlette, “Sorry for disturbing you. I’ll talk to him later.”
Scarlette yawned, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t asleep anyway. Just glad you’re okay.”
Clara opened her door, nudged Ryan inside, and closed it. Then she turned back to Scarlette. “Weren’t you supposed to be on a business trip for a week? Why are you still here?”
Scarlette paused, looking uneasy. “It got postponed, maybe after the New Year.”
Clara noticed a dark bruise around Scarlette’s wrist, deep red with a hint of purple—not like it was pinched but as if it had been restrained for a long time. She was about to ask when Scarlette stopped her.
“Please, spare me the embarrassment.”
Clara instantly understood. It was Nicholas, wasn’t it? Has he lost it?
She frowned, knowing this was Scarlette’s personal matter, and it was clear she was troubled, so she said, “If you need any help, just let me know.”
Scarlette nodded and shut her door.
Clara turned back to her apartment to find Ryan asleep on the couch. It had only been a few minutes. He must have been exhausted.
She nudged him awake. “If you’re gonna sleep, use the guest room.”
Ryan jolted awake, sat up, and took a swig of cold water. “Clara, listen to me. Break up with that boyfriend of yours. I don’t trust him. You’re not even married, and he’s already treating me this way—hanging up on me and dragging you away from our home.”
Listening to his complaints, Clara suddenly asked, “Now do you understand how I feel about Sarah?”
Ryan instantly went quiet, his eyes reddening.
She wasn’t trying to blame him, so she sighed, “Z is just used to being alone, not great with people, but he’s not a bad person, and he treats me well.”
“Well, he’s terrible! Tell me, what’s his real name? It’s the 21st century; who still uses just a letter? What is he, some mysterious figure from a secret organization? Clara, I know I have no right to say this, but I just don’t like him!”
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