Chapter 3 - THE ROOM AT THE END OF THE HALL
Clara woke beneath warm blankets.
For several seconds, she didn't know where she was.
The room was unfamiliar.
Soft lighting.
A fireplace.
Cream-colored walls.
A medical monitor beside the bed.
Then she remembered the snow.
The doors.
The cold.
She tried to sit up.
Pain shot through her fingers.
“Easy.”
A woman's voice.
Clara turned.
A physician in her forties stood beside the bed.
“I'm Dr. Evelyn Hart.”
Clara swallowed.
“Where am I?”
“Inside the Moretti estate.”
Clara's heart raced.
“Am I fired?”
Dr. Hart frowned.
“What?”
Clara's eyes filled.
“Please. I need this job.”
The doctor looked toward the doorway.
Tony Moretti stood there.
His expression changed.
Clara froze.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He approached slowly.
“Claire.”
She blinked.
“Clara.”
He paused.
Then smiled faintly.
“Clara. I'm sorry.”
She stared.
Tony pulled a chair beside the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
She looked down.
“Cold.”
Dr. Hart adjusted the blanket.
“You had significant cold exposure and hypothermia. You're safe now, but we'll continue monitoring you.”
Clara nodded.
Then whispered:
“Did Miss Vance find her earring?”
Tony went still.
For a moment, he looked almost pained.
Then he answered.
“She never lost it.”
Clara stared.
“What?”
He looked at her.
“She was wearing both earrings.”
Silence.
Clara's eyes filled.
Then she turned away.
Tony watched her.
“Clara.”
She shook her head.
“I'm sorry.”
He frowned.
“For what?”
“For causing trouble.”
Tony's expression hardened.
“You didn't cause anything.”
Clara looked at him.
He leaned forward.
“Listen carefully.”
She swallowed.
“You are not being fired.”
Her eyes widened.
“And no one in this house will ever send you into danger to satisfy someone's cruelty again.”
Clara stared.
Then began crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just quietly.
As though she had been holding the tears back for months.
May you like
Tony remained beside her.
And for the first time in years, he felt ashamed of what his wealth and power had allowed to happen beneath his own roof.
