Chapter 6

Back at the house, Claire found Vivienne's things scattered across what used to be her bedroom.

The maid, Rosie, approached. "Miss Claire, this is Miss Vivienne's room now."

There was sympathy in the way she looked at Claire. Claire stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment before she managed to speak, her voice scraped raw. "Then where are my things?"

A minute later, Rosie led her to a dusty guest room, her expression awkward.

"Miss Claire, after you left, this room was used to store your belongings. Let me clean it up right away."

Claire pressed her lips together and said nothing. She spent over half an hour searching through the guest room, only to realize her photos with her mother were gone.

After Grace died, Richard had refused to let anyone report on her. He'd pulled all of her films from distribution and ordered every photograph of her in the house destroyed. He said looking at them was too painful.

Claire had secretly kept one framed photo — the only surviving picture of her and her mother — hidden carefully in a cabinet.

Her heart hammering, she crossed to what used to be her room and spotted a frame on the nightstand. The photo inside was the one of her and her mother.

She picked it up with trembling care. The image was intact — Grace holding her, smiling with such tenderness. The tears Claire had been fighting broke free. Then her gaze caught something else on the nightstand.

The custom jewelry piece Julian had commissioned a master artisan to design for her. Her mother's necklace. The earrings Ethan had given her.

All the precious things she'd kept tucked away, too cherished to wear — Vivienne had taken every single one.

She couldn't contain herself any longer. With shaking hands, she gathered up everything that belonged to her.

A startled voice came from behind. "Claire? What are you doing in my room?"

Claire's grip tightened on the items in her hands. She closed her eyes, reached up to wipe the tears from her face, then turned and slapped Vivienne hard.

Vivienne shrieked and went sprawling. Ethan, right behind her, rushed to her side, pulling her up with frantic hands, his expression furious. "Claire, have you lost your mind? She's your sister!"

Seeing Vivienne's tears, he panicked, shouting for someone to bring ice.

Any other day, Claire might have restrained herself. But right now she was past all reason, the rage white-hot and total. "Sister? She's nothing but the product of my father's affair."

The slap rang out. Claire's body hit the ground hard, her arm scraping against the floor and drawing blood.

Eyes stinging, she pressed her hand to her cheek and slowly looked up. Julian stood over her, looking down as though she were something beneath him.

He and Ethan flanked Vivienne like bodyguards, and Julian's voice was ice. "You've gone too far. The only reason you got out of that facility early was because of Vivienne."

The detention facility. Those words dragged her nightmares back to the surface. But the scene in front of her — that cut even deeper.

It was as if someone were taking a blade to her heart, over and over, until she could barely draw breath.

And then Julian acted as if nothing had happened. He bent to help her up, his voice gentle. "Does your face hurt?"

He'd hit her with his own hand. How could he stand there and say that so casually?

Claire's eyes were bloodshot. She shoved his hand away and got up on her own, clutching the things in her hands. They were hers. Yet she felt a desperate, helpless certainty that she couldn't hold on to anything anymore.

She stared past Ethan at Vivienne, grief and fury surging through her. "These are my things. Who gave you the right to take them without asking?"

Vivienne put on a wounded look. "I'm sorry. I just thought the necklaces were pretty, and Ethan and Julian said I could have them. I wasn't trying to take your things."

Claire's breath caught. The strength drained out of her. She looked from one man to the other. "Is that so?"

Both of them faltered — because the light that had always lived in Claire's eyes was gone.

Something like panic stirred in them. Julian pushed down his unease and hardened his voice. "Vivienne just got here and didn't have any jewelry. I'll buy you new ones."

Ethan grabbed her hand — and flinched at how cold it was. He softened his tone. "Claire, it's not that big a deal. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you."

Claire didn't speak. She looked down at the gifts in her hands — the things they'd once spent months creating to surprise her.

Now everything had changed. They had changed. And these gifts had lost all meaning.

Her lips barely moved. Then, abruptly, she opened her hands and let everything fall. The delicate jewelry clattered against the floor. The color drained from every face in the room.

Claire's gaze settled on Vivienne's stricken expression, and her voice was very quiet. "You love taking what belongs to other people, don't you, Vivienne? Then take it. It's yours."

She didn't want any of it. Not the things. Not the people. She was done with all of it.

Vivienne's expression froze. A vicious gleam flashed through her eyes. She shoved Claire to the ground and bent to scoop up the fallen jewelry.