Clara's POV
Auriel bowed and slipped out, the soft click of the lock leaving me alone with silence.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the air heavy in my chest. Jason's death should not have cut me so deeply. To me, he had always been the enemy—a shadow at Ciel's side, a reminder of everything I distrusted. I had been cold to him, dismissive, cruel at times. I should have felt nothing.
But I did.
The grief pressed sharp against my ribs, blooming in ways I couldn't understand. Why did my heart ache for someone I barely knew? Why did his absence feel like the tearing away of something old, something buried?
I clenched the sheets, fighting the unease crawling under my skin. It made no sense, this sorrow. I whispered apologies into the pillow—apologies Jason would never hear—without knowing why the words tumbled from my mouth at all.
