Chapter 1 - The Ghost of Clara
“Who is Clara?” Eleanor demanded, her voice barely a whisper, yet it echoed off the walls of the master bedroom like a gunshot.
Julian didn’t look at her. He remained on the floor, staring at the untouched wedding bed, his hands trembling. “She was everything,” he whispered. “Before you knew about Madeline, before I moved to Charlotte. Clara was my life.”
Eleanor exchanged a bewildered glance with Arthur. “You never mentioned a Clara.”
“Because talking about her felt like swallowing glass,” Julian replied, finally looking up. His eyes were hollow, devoid of the warm, loving son Eleanor had raised. “We were engaged in college. She was brilliant, Mom. She was going to be a pediatric surgeon. But three years ago, her car was run off a canyon road in the middle of the night. The police called it a tragic accident. A missed turn in the rain.”
Arthur stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “Julian, that’s terrible, but what does that have to do with Madeline?”
Julian let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Because it wasn't the rain. Clara called me that night, crying. She said a black SUV had been tailing her for miles, aggressively trying to run her off the road. The call dropped. When they found her car at the bottom of the ravine, there was black paint transferred onto her rear bumper.”
Julian stood up, pacing the floor like a caged animal. “It took me a year to track down the private investigator who finally found the truth. The SUV belonged to Madeline.”
Eleanor felt the room spin. “Madeline? But she’s so sweet. She washes the dishes. She—”
“She’s a sociopath, Mom!” Julian snapped, his voice cracking. “Clara had discovered that Madeline was cheating on her final med school exams and reported her to the ethics board. Madeline’s wealthy family was going to be humiliated. So, Madeline followed her that night. She rammed Clara’s car off the cliff and used her father’s money to pay off the local sheriff to lose the evidence.”
May you like
Eleanor covered her mouth, a sob catching in her throat. “And you… you married her?”
“I didn't marry her,” Julian said coldly, adjusting his torn tuxedo shirt. “I caged her. Because death is too easy. I want her to lose her mind, her money, and her freedom. And tonight, the psychological torture officially began.”
