The house was quiet when Clara walked in.
Too quiet.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor, echoing down the hallway as she set her bag on the table. The scent of lavender from the candles the housekeeper had lit still hung faintly in the air, blending with the clean scent of polished wood. It felt like a home, at least on the surface. But to Clara, it had begun to feel like a cage.
Her children's laughter drifted faintly from upstairs, a small, ordinary sound that made something twist sharply inside her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting the familiarity of it wash over her. It had been a while since she heard such sounds. And over a week since they came to stay with her, since she'd promised CJ she'd not mess things up.
The promise had sounded easy then even though she had been hesitant.
Now, it felt harder than she thought because she knew she could easily mess things up with one mistake.
