Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 564

She kept her eyes glued to the floor. “Should I call Aiden in to look after you?”

“You should go get some sleep. Don’t worry about me.”

Even as he said it, he brushed past her, heading straight for the wardrobe. But then he paused, like he’d just remembered something, and reached into the farthest corner, pulling out a bathrobe at random.

Clara couldn’t tell if she was just imagining things, but for a split second, as he opened the closet, she thought she saw something oddly familiar in there.

She remembered Simon once mentioning that, in their graduation photo, she was the only one not wearing the school uniform—someone had stolen it, and she never did find out who. Was that her uniform she’d just seen in Dylan’s closet? But he shut the doors so fast she didn’t get a good look, just a flash of similar colors.

She wasn’t about to go down that rabbit hole. The whole idea was ridiculous.

Dylan, stealing her uniform? Honestly, that didn’t even sound possible—not in this lifetime, or the next three.

She snapped back to reality just in time to see Dylan about to head into the bathroom. She quickly stepped forward. “Didn’t the doctor say you’re not supposed to get your back wet for a month?”

He was already pushing open the bathroom door, acting like he hadn’t heard a word.

Clara didn’t know where her sudden frustration came from, but she rushed after him, barging right into the bathroom.

“Dylan, what’s wrong with you?” she blurted. Wasn’t he supposed to be the sensible one? Since when did he start ignoring doctor’s orders?

She slammed the bathroom door behind her—maybe a little too hard. The door handle hit the floor with a loud clatter.

The bathroom was big, but nowhere near as spacious as the bedroom. Clara stared at the handle on the floor, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She crouched down to pick it up, tried the door, and realized it wouldn’t budge. That one slam must’ve broken it.

She glanced up at Dylan, panicked.

He was standing in front of the mirror, eyes flicking over to the handle in her hand. He looked like he wanted to say something, but held back.

Clara quickly set the “evidence” on the sink and tried to explain herself. “Seriously, do you always buy such flimsy doors? I swear, I didn’t even use that much force.”

The more she spoke, the more guilty she sounded. Her voice got smaller. “Do you have your phone on you?”

The master bedroom was soundproof—no way Aiden could hear them if they yelled. Their only hope was to call for help.

Dylan squeezed some toothpaste onto his brush, answering in his usual calm tone, “No.”

Clara instantly freaked out. “Who goes to take a shower without their phone?”