Clara had barely ended the call when her phone shrieked again. It was the laboratory.

"Clara! It’s over! The lab is on fire! Everything—the servers, the hard drives—all the data is gone!"

The words struck like a lightning bolt, shattering the fragile remnants of her composure. She ran toward the lab, her lungs burning, her mind a chaotic storm of denial.

Julian... you promised! You promised you wouldn't destroy the research if I dropped the appeal!

That lab wasn’t just a workspace; it was the last piece of her father’s legacy, the only sanctuary she had left in a world that had betrayed her.

When she arrived, the sky above North Bay was stained a bruised orange by the towering inferno. Her colleagues stood paralyzed on the sidewalk, weeping as years of their collective brilliance turned to gray ash.

Clara clenched her fists, her vision tunneling as she moved toward the flames. She was ready to dive into the fire to save whatever was left, but a pair of powerful arms caught her, jerking her back into a crushing embrace.

Julian’s voice was laced with a raw, unfamiliar panic as she struggled against him. "Are you insane, Clara? You’re going to throw your life away for a few sheets of data?"

Clara’s eyes were a haunting shade of crimson, the agony of weeks finally erupting. "Why, Julian? Why are you doing this to me?"

"That was my father’s! It was all I had left of him!"

Each sob felt like a serrated blade through her heart, until the pain became so absolute that she simply went numb.

Clara didn’t remember how she got home. When she drifted back to consciousness, she was in her bedroom. Her head throbbed as she sat up and crept toward the door. As she opened it, voices drifted up from the living room below—familiar, casual, and devastating.

"Julian, you’ve really outdone yourself," one of Julian’s friends said, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "Framing Clara for pushing Vivian down the stairs, faking a miscarriage just to throw her in a cell... that was cold."

Julian sat on the velvet sofa, his silhouette sharp and unreadable in the dim light. He tilted his glass, draining the amber liquid in one go.

"And I heard you had her lab torched yesterday," the friend continued, his voice turning slightly more serious. "Destroying her life's work... isn't that a bit much, even for you?"

"Vivian is competing for the Excellence in Science Award," Julian replied, his voice flat. "Clara’s data was the only thing standing in her way. It had to go."

The friend paused, a frown deepening on his face. "But Clara spent years building that artificial heart specifically for

you

. Now that the lab is gone, what about your condition? Your heart is a ticking time bomb."

Julian reached into a drawer and tossed a thick folder onto the coffee table. "Vivian secured a compatible donor for me. I don’t need a mechanical toy to keep me alive anymore."

The friend exhaled a sigh of relief, then smirked. "So, did you ever actually feel anything for the girl? After all these years, the way you treated her... we all thought—"

"I only have room for Vivian," Julian interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a winter wind.

In the hallway above, Clara felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

There was no pregnancy. No miscarriage. It was all a calculated lie to break her. He had never intended to spare her research; she was simply a stepping stone for Vivian’s ambition.

She couldn't breathe in this house. She had to leave—now. But as she turned to flee, she found herself face-to-face with Julian’s mother. The older woman’s eyes were pits of venom.

"You actually have the nerve to show your face here?" Mrs. Pierce spat. "You shameless little brat. Seducing your own guardian, and then murdering my grandchild."

"It was a lie—" Clara started, but a stinging slap across her face silenced her.

"If I had known you were such a degenerate, I never would have let Julian take you in!"

Before Clara could recover, the woman grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward the top of the grand staircase.

"Let’s see how you like it! A life for a life—repayment for the grandson you stole from me!"

With a violent shove, Clara was sent reeling backward.

She felt the sickening sensation of weightlessness followed by the brutal, bone-shattering impact of each marble step. Her vision blurred into a kaleidoscope of red and gray.

"Clara!"

A scream echoed from the foyer. Through the haze, she saw Julian sprinting toward her. He gathered her broken body into his arms, his face a mask of terror.

"Don't be afraid, Clara. I'm here. I've got you."

Clara wanted to laugh, but all that came out was a choking sob as the tears fell.

The irony,

she thought as the darkness closed in.

Every wound I have... was carved by you.

Julian carried Clara back to her room, his movements uncharacteristically gentle as he took her hand.

"The lab fire was an accident, Clara. I’ve already arranged for a new team to rebuild it for you," he whispered. "As for the data... you’re brilliant. I know you’ll recreate the artificial heart in no time."

Clara pulled her hand away, her skin crawling from his touch. "There won’t be another one."

Julian stiffened, a sudden pang of unease tightening his chest. He expected a hysterical breakdown, a scream of rage—anything but this. Instead, she was as still as a stagnant pool, her eyes devoid of any ripple of emotion.

Before he could speak, his phone chimed. It was the shrill, artificial tone he had assigned to Vivian.

"Julian... my head hurts so much," Vivian’s voice whined through the speaker, thick with forced fragility. "I think it’s a lingering concussion from when I fell down those stairs..."

Julian glanced at Clara, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he stood up. "Clara, I need to check on Vivian. I’ll be back later to stay with you."

He turned and walked out without looking back. Clara watched his retreating figure and let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. Then, she pulled out a voice recorder and hit

send

.