Clara stayed silent. The last time she needed help with a body, Z’s friend had stepped in, but Jeffree wasn’t someone who could just vanish without anyone noticing. Clara had shown up enough with the Dawson family that if she suddenly went missing, they’d be all over it, digging into what happened.
Everything felt like it was closing in on her, like she was caught in a trap someone else had set. Eli’s voice was careful, almost pleading, “Clara, you have to believe me, it wasn’t me.”
She was about to comfort him when sirens shattered the air. Police cars swarmed around her, and before she knew it, cold handcuffs clicked onto her wrists. It all happened so fast. She tried to say something to Eli, but the police hustled her away.
Eli stood there, numbed, watching the body get taken away. A chill crept over him. Snapping back, he rushed to the mansion nearby, pounding on the door with all his strength. “Come out here!” he yelled.
Silence. Just as he was about to explode, pain shot through his shoulder—a bullet. He muttered a curse and sank onto the steps, hearing the door behind him creak open.
Eli, seething, was about to get up when a voice asked, “What are you going to do to help her?” The calmness in the voice only fueled his rage.
He clenched his teeth, but whatever was in that bullet was kicking in, leaving him unable to move. “You think you can protect her?” he spat. “You brought this chaos into her life. You’re safe now because she doesn’t remember, but when she does, she won’t spare you.”
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