Clara’s POV
They think I don’t hear them.
That because they lower their voices and step just out of sight, because they lean close and speak in sharp, clipped whispers, I won’t notice.
But I do. I notice everything.
I hear the subtle shifts in their tone, the way conversations cut off the moment I step into a room. I catch the looks they exchange, quick, fleeting glances meant to be invisible. Most people wouldn’t see them. Most people wouldn’t even think to look.
But I’m not most people. And I always see. Always hear. Always know.
They think I’m losing control. Maybe I am. Maybe they’re right to be afraid.
Or maybe… they’ve just never loved someone so deeply, so ferociously, that the mere thought of losing them feels like acid burning through their veins.
Ethan is mine. He has alw
