The faint hum of a car engine broke the night’s stillness. Natasha, stirring slightly, frowned and peered through the window just in time to see a man stepping out of the car to open the door for Clara. The dim porch light highlighted Clara’s slouched figure as she exited, and Natasha’s heart raced. What happened to her? Quickly retreating, she threw herself onto the couch, feigning sleep.
The front door creaked open, and Clara slipped inside, moving quietly. Her battered spirit couldn’t face Natasha, not now. But as she tiptoed toward her room, a sharp voice cut through the quiet.
"Clara," Natasha called, her tone laced with concern and suspicion. "What happened to you?"
Clara halted mid-step, her breath hitching. Slowly, she turned around, her expression a mix of exhaustion and anxiet
