CHAPTER 3
885 Words
“Aunty, please… I’ll leave,” she said quickly. “I’ll go. Just let me take my things and go, I won’t come back, I promise—”
But Aunty Catty shook her head slowly.
“Too late.”
Clara froze.
“What…?”
“Lock her up,” her aunt said flatly.
For a second, Clara thought she misheard.
“What?” she whispered.
But the guards were already moving.
“No—no, wait!” Clara cried out as they started dragging her toward the house. “Aunty, please! You can’t do this!”
She struggled, but they were too strong.
Her feet dragged against the floor as they pulled her inside.
The house felt different.
Cold.
Empty.
Like it didn’t recognize her anymore.
“Please!” she begged, her voice breaking. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Aunty Catty didn’t respond.
She just watched.
They dragged Clara down the hallway, past the living room, past the stairs, to one of the smaller rooms at the back of the house.
A room Clara had barely ever entered.
The door was opened.
Then she was shoved inside.
She stumbled forward, barely catching herself before falling.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Click.
Locked.
Clara spun around immediately, rushing to the door. She grabbed the handle, twisting it.
It didn’t move.
“No…” she whispered.
Her heart began to pound.
“No, no, no…”
She banged on the door. “Aunty! Please open the door!”
Silence.
“Aunty Catty!”
Nothing.
Her hands trembled as she kept knocking. “Please… I’ll leave… I won’t say anything… just let me go…”
Her voice cracked completely.
“I’m begging you…”
But no one came.
Slowly, her strength gave out.
She slid down against the door, her back hitting the wood as she pulled her knees to her chest.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Her breathing was uneven.
Her thoughts were worse.
Everything replayed in her mind.
Adrian’s face.
His silence.
Isabella’s smirk.
The whispers.
The humiliation.
And now… this.
“How did it get this bad…” she whispered to herself.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Then another.
Then she broke.
Her shoulders shook as the sobs came, uncontrollable, painful, raw.
For the first time since everything started…
Clara allowed herself to feel it.
The betrayal.
The loss.
The fear.
Because deep down…
She knew this wasn’t just punishment.
Something else was coming.
And whatever it was…
It wouldn’t be good.
Clara didn’t know how long she had been sitting on the floor.
Time had lost meaning inside the locked room. There were no windows, no clock, nothing to tell her if minutes or hours had passed. The only thing she could hear was her own breathing uneven, shaky and the occasional faint sound from somewhere else in the house.
At some point, her tears stopped.
Not because the pain was gone… but because she was too tired to cry anymore.
Her head rested against the door, her body curled into itself. Every part of her felt heavy.
Then suddenly—
Click.
The sound was small, but it hit her like thunder.
Clara’s eyes snapped open.
For a second, she didn’t move.
Then the door slowly creaked open.
Hope flickered in her chest.
“Aunty…?” she called softly as she struggled to stand up.
But the moment she saw who walked in, that hope died instantly.
Two bodyguards.
No expression. No hesitation.
Clara stepped back. “Where is my aunt?”
No answer.
Her heartbeat picked up.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “Why was I locked in here?”
Still nothing.
The men moved toward her.
Fear rose quickly now, sharp and clear.
“Wait—don’t come closer,” Clara said, lifting her hands slightly as if that would stop them. “Please, just tell me what’s happening.”
One of them reached into his pocket.
Clara’s eyes widened as he pulled out a folded black cloth.
Her breath caught.
“No…” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no… what are you doing?”
Before she could move, they grabbed her arms.
“Let go of me!” she cried, struggling. “What is this?!”
The cloth was pulled over her head, covering her eyes completely.
Darkness.
Instant. Suffocating.
Clara gasped, panic flooding her chest. “I can’t see! Take it off! Please, I can’t see!”
“Move,” one of the men said flatly.
They dragged her forward.
Her heart pounded wildly as she stumbled, unable to see where she was going.
“Please… I didn’t do anything…” she begged, her voice breaking again. “If this is about the party, I’m sorry… I’ll leave… I won’t come back…”
But no one answered her.
They kept walking.
Step after step.
Then—
Voices.
Clara froze.
She knew that voice.
Aunty Catty.
“…I already told you, this is the best you’ll get,” her aunt was saying.
Another voice responded.
A man.
Older. Rough. Slightly irritated.
“I don’t like her size,” he said. “She’s too skinny. I prefer something… fuller.”
Clara’s entire body went still.
Her breathing stopped for a second.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
No.
No, no…
- Writer
