A thousand times, Clara swore to herself—if the arms holding her belonged to James, just James, she'd confess everything. She couldn't endure this torment any longer, couldn't withstand the agony.
She struggled to open her eyes, but her eyelids weighed like stone, her head pounding violently until the world faded to black.
Yet her rescuer wasn't James, but Anthony.
From the moment Clara left James' home, he'd been shadowing her every step. Watching her heart shatter, her isolation deepen, Anthony's own chest ached fiercely—yet he never stepped forward to offer his umbrella. All he wanted was for her to remember him in her despair, even if only as second choice. He'd accept that.
But she never called. Instead, she wandered blindly through the torrential rain until she collapsed...
Anth
