CHAPTER 4: THE FRACTURED SANCTUARY
CHAPTER 4: THE FRACTURED SANCTUARY
The ballroom did not just feel cold. It felt empty. Even with hundreds of people staring. Even with the flashbulbs blinding her eyes. Clara stood frozen. The yellowed papers felt like lead in her hands. "Say something," Clara whispered. Her voice was small. A child’s voice again. Eleanor Sterling did not look up. Tears tracked through her immaculate makeup. The iron woman of the financial world was gone. Only a hollow shell remained. Julian stepped between them. His hand brushed Clara’s shoulder. "Clara, we need to leave," he muttered. "Now." But Clara didn't move. She kept her eyes locked on Eleanor. "Was it you?" No answer. "Did you kill them?" Eleanor finally raised her head. Her lips trembled. "I tried to save you, Clara." That wasn't a denial. It was an admission. Richard Harrington watched from the stage. He did not smile. There was no triumph in his eyes. Only the grim satisfaction of a man who had finally shared his curse. "The press is crossing the barricades," Julian warned. The shouting grew louder. Reporters bypassed security. Microphones shoved forward. Clara turned. She didn't look at Julian. She didn't look at Eleanor. She gripped the file against her chest. And she ran. Into the pouring rain.
