Clara’s POV
The sound of the front door closing is softer than it should be. Vince always moves quietly, even when he doesn’t have to. For a long moment, I stay frozen where I am, hands clenched around the rag I’ve been holding. My pulse thuds in my ears, an echo of the car engine fading down the long, secluded drive. He’s gone. Really gone.
I breathe once. Twice. The house seems to exhale with me, the silence so complete it’s almost a presence of its own. This is my chance. I know exactly how long it takes him to buy cigarettes from the small shop off the main road. Fifteen minutes if there’s no one else there. Twenty if he lingers. Twenty minutes is all I have to stop being the woman he thinks I am.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and force my legs to move. My body feels heavy, as if the
