“How are you still alive?!”
Clara’s brows knitted together, her suspicions on shaky ground. Was this really Eden’s doing? Was Beck actually telling the truth? But the way he looked at Megan—there was no way that was innocent. Clara always trusted her gut, and most of the time, it had kept her alive. But looking at Eden now, even she was starting to doubt herself.
Eli let out a dry laugh from the passenger seat. “You don’t think that kid was telling the truth, do you?”
Eden realized she might be overreacting, but honestly, she didn’t care. Clara wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her. In fact, a twisted thought popped into her head: if Clara ever did something to her, it’d only work in Eden’s favor.
Her eyes suddenly widened. Why bother teaming up with someone like Megan, when she could just take Clara down herself?
Before Clara could say a word, Eden crossed her arms, looking way too pleased with herself. “Clara, you just got lucky this time. But I’m telling you, as long as I’m alive, I’m coming for you. If you don’t leave Dylan, you’ll regret it.”
Clara didn’t even get a chance to respond. Eli, fed up, went to open the car door, ready to jump out. But Clara stopped him with a low warning, “She’s with the Fergusons. Are you sure you’re ready for the fallout?”
Eli shot her a frustrated look, then slammed the door shut.
“So, what now?” he muttered. “You’re just going to let her keep sending people after you?”
Clara didn’t answer. Instead, she floored the gas. The car shot forward, aimed straight at Eden.
Eden didn’t even have time to react—one second she was standing there, the next, wind and engine noise barreled toward her. Just when she was sure she was about to die, the car screeched to a stop, barely eight inches from where she stood.
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