Clara

  It's the pressure in my lungs that makes me aware that I'm being suffocated. I can't breath and I can't see anything, just darkness. But I can tell that I'm laying down on a bed. Someone is on top of me. Someone heavy, that I can't push away. That person or whatever it is pressing a pillow onto my face, trying to kill me. I try to move but my arms feel weak as I try to push the person away.

  "CLARA!"

  My body jerks upright, and I gasp, sucking in air like I've just surfaced from drowning. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it's rattling my ribcage, and my hands tremble as they clutch the edges of my desk.

  I'm drenched in sweat-cold and clammy against my skin. Worse, the entire class is staring at me. I notice is the professor's frown.

  "Is the lesson boring you?" He asks.

  My ears feel like they're ringing from the pressure of so many eyes on me.

  This is humiliating.

  I've never been the type to get in trouble. But now, after everything, I can feel my perfect image crumbling under the weight of whatever curse has been haunting me.

  "No, sir," I manage, my voice quieter. "I'm really sorry." I keep my eyes down, staring at my desk.

  "Sit down. Don't let me find you sleeping again."

  I nod quickly, slumping back into my seat as my shoulders sink with relief. My stomach twists as the obscene amount of caffeine I drowned myself in since last night churns inside me. I had told myself-ordered myself-not to sleep. Yet exhaustion had won, dragging me down despite my efforts, despite the cups of coffee that now sit like acid in my gut.

  I keep having these weird nightmares where I end up dying in different, horrible ways. And each time, It feels so real. But the most peculiar thing is how every time when I die, there's a different girl dying alongside me.

  The first dream was of burning in a room. In the next one, I found myself drowning in a gushing river.

  I try some breathing exercises as I glance at Alister. It didn’t seem like he was having my nightmare problem when I saw him wanting to sleep in class earlier.

  At least we agreed to go to the antique shop today. I can't keep living like this, haunted by nightmares where I die over and over, only to wake up exhausted and terrified.

  I glance at my phone. A new one that I bought after Alister graciously broke mine. And didn't even bother to put it back in bag.

  With shaky hands, I tap out the words quickly: 'Are you facing any problems because of the gem?’

  I watch him from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to look at his phone. He pulls it out, types something before turning it off without a word.

  Just a simple ‘No’

  I glare at him, hoping my sharp gaze will pierce through his indifferent walls. I want him to feel the rage behind it. But he doesn't look up. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or more pissed off.

  If I didn't have a backup plan, I wouldn't be alive today. All he wants is to kill me. I bet he's lying.

  I check my watch, and there's still some time before the next class. I walk through the busy hallways and out of the campus. In the parking lot, my eyes scan the rows of cars until I spot Alister's vehicle. The sleek, black one with tinted windows. I make my way over it.

  After making sure no one is watching, I quickly pull out a small, circular tracking device from my pocket and attach it to the undercarriage of his car.

  Once the device is securely attached, I step back and admire my handiwork. The tracker is small and discreet, and I'm confident that Alister won't discover it anytime soon.

  Thing is, I had bought it yesterday with the intention of using it on him. How can I not keep track of someone trying to look for ways to murder me.

  That would be very stupid.

  After the blissful ride with Zach on his bike, where I clung to him and the drowsiness just vanished as I tried to simply hold him tight, I'm dropped off to face the scowling Alister. He had been impatiently waiting for me in his car, and once I arrived, we headed straight into the shop. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old books and wood polish.

  I take a glance around the store as we make our way to the counter, soaking in all the things on display. My fingers trail over vintage vases, antique clocks, and porcelain dolls that seem to watch me as I move. There are three other customers here beside us.

  When we finally reach the counter, the owner greets us with a warm, toothy grin.

  "Welcome! Anything I can help you with? What are you looking for?"

  I pull the small, wooden box from my bag and place it on the counter.

  "Actually, we wanted to ask something. Do you remember selling this to him?" I ask, nodding toward Alister.

  The man's eyes flicker between us before settling on the box. He leans forward, inspecting it closely, his brow furrowing in concentration. His eyes widen slightly, and he leans in even closer as if confirming something only he can see.

  "Ah, yes! I remember!" he finally exclaims, nodding slowly. "This man came here wanting to buy something."

  Alister crosses his arms. "Where exactly did you acquire such magnificent gemstones? Who told you they were magical?"

  The owner shrugs. "That's just what the person who sold them to me said. I'm simply passing along the information."

  I exchange a glance with Alister. The owner is being evasive, and we both sense it.

  I step forward. "Who is this person who sold them to you? Can you tell us about him?"

  The question makes him hesitate. His posture stiffens, and his fingers twitch slightly where they rest on the counter. "I'm afraid I can't disclose that information. It's private, and I don't feel comfortable sharing it."

  "Please. I really need to know. Can't you make an exception?" I insist.

  The friendliness vanishes from his face. His expression hardens. "I've already told you. I cannot disclose that information. And even if I could, I'm not sure I would. You're being quite difficult, you know."

  Alister steps forward. His lips curl into a faint, almost amused smile as he glances over his shoulder.

  "When I came here before," he muses, "and even now, you never seem to have many customers, do you?"

  The owner's eyes widen just a fraction, caught off guard by the comment. He quickly masks it, straightening his stance. "That's none of your business,"

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  Alister's smile fades, and he leans forward, just enough to make the man uneasy. "Let me give you a bit of advice," he says. "A small business owner like you, struggling to keep this shop standing, making an enemy of someone with more... influence, shall we say? is probably a very bad idea."

  He lets the words linger, watching as the man shifts uncomfortably.

  "You see, Clara Austin here belongs to Cirrus, Inc. I'm sure you've heard of that company."

  He looks confused as he stares at me before realization hits him, draining color from his face. "Cirrus, Inc.?" he repeats.

  Alister nods. "The gem was a gift for her, but"-he taps a finger on the box-"it didn't contain any 'mystical properties' like you claimed. That's like fraud. And this woman right here?" He gestures toward me with a lazy tilt of his head. "She can hire a very good lawyer to take you down with ease. Fraudulent claims, unfair business practices-the list could go on."

  "I-I could give you a full refund." He stammers nervously as he looks at us with a pleading expression.

  Alister shakes his head slowly. "Oh, you know that's not what we're after. A refund isn't going to cut it. We want information. We want to know who gave you the gems." His eyes lock onto the store owner's with an intensity that leaves no room for argument. "And I think you're going to tell us. Aren't you?"

  The store owner clears his throat. "Okay, I'll tell you... after the customers leave. P-please, just wait until then." He gestures toward the few lingering shoppers, his voice carrying a nervous edge.

  Alister doesn't back down. "If you're trying to stall or deceive us, it will only-"

  "Sure, we'll wait." I say, intervening as I grab Alister's arm and pull him away from the counter.

  He clicks his tongue but doesn't resist as I drag him away from the confrontation. We settle into a pair of old wooden rocking chairs near the back.

  Alister doesn't bother hiding his irritation. His fingers drum impatiently against the armrest, his gaze locked onto the owner with unwavering focus.

  I've always been fascinated with his finger tapping. It's like he's playing a piano. Pressing down invisible keys as if playing out the background music in his head.

  I lean back in the rocking chair, studying my nails with a casual flick of my fingers. "You, Alister Wyatt, are the most hypocritical man I've ever met."

  He tenses slightly, then turns his head toward me. "What?"

  "You say you hate corrupt people," I continue, lazily examining the smooth polish on my nails. "That they abuse their power, that they don't deserve anything. Yet what you did there-was that not an abuse of power?"

  Alister doesn't answer right away. His jaw shifts slightly before he finally mutters. "I abused your power."

  I blink at him, momentarily thrown, before a laugh bubbles up in my throat. I try to stifle it, but the absurdity of his reasoning is too much. "And that's different? That makes it okay?"

  Alister exhales sharply before crossing his arms. "It was better than watching you beg. And if I'm going to be seen with you, I'd rather people not think I'm just as pathetic."

  I pause as my amusement dies. "I wasn't begging."

  "The desperation in your voice was as clear as day."

  I narrow my eyes. "I get the feeling you would have enjoyed watching me like that, though."

  He grins. "Tremendously. But I wasn't in the mood for it today, so I let it go."

  I roll my eyes and shift my attention to the last customer still lingering at the counter.

  "You know," I murmur to myself, "that's the first time I've heard you say my name."

  I never thought I'd hear his voice make that sound. It was...quite unexpected. And a weird part of me wants to hear it again.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alister freeze for just a fraction of a second. I wonder if he heard that.

  After everyone is gone, we walk up front as the store owner flips the red sign that reads "Open" to "Closed." He then locks the door and gestures us toward the counter.

  "It was the day before you bought it. I was coming back from a trip to another town and stopped at a gas station to refuel. While I was at the pump, I noticed this car pulling in fast-recklessly, like the driver wasn't thinking straight. A guy jumps out, clutching this beautiful box like it's the most important thing in the world."

  His fingers absently trace the carvings of the box, as if reliving the moment. "I was curious, so I followed him inside. He was jittery-kept looking over his shoulder, like he was waiting for someone. I asked him about the box, and he hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he should talk to me."

  Alister leans forward. "And then?"

  The store owner chuckles nervously. "Then he opens it, and inside are these two gorgeous gems. He tells me they have magical properties." He smirks at the memory. "Now, I don't usually buy into that kind of thing, but he looked desperate to get rid of it. So I asked him for a price. He said, 'Thirty dollars.'"

  We stare at him.

  "Thirty dollars," I repeat flatly.

  The owner shrugs. "I wasn't going to argue."

  "You didn't find it suspicious at all?" I ask, my tone laced with disbelief. "The guy just happens to have two valuable jewels and is desperate to get rid of them for not even a fraction of their worth?"

  "And he's all panicking and jittery, like he's been running from something dangerous!" Alister adds. "How did you not put two and two together?"

  The owner shifts uncomfortably. "Look, I thought about it, alright? I figured maybe he stole them, or they were fake. But no one came looking, and I wasn't about to pass up a good deal."

  I sigh, rubbing my temples. "So, you have no idea who he was? No name, no number?"

  "Nothing," the owner admits. "He was tall, maybe 5'8" or 5'9", thin and had a scruffy beard. Wore a dark jacket, a hat, and a mask-like a surgical one. Seemed sick, kept coughing."

  I pull out my notepad, jotting down the details. "Where was the gas station?"

  "FastFuel. About five miles north, off the highway. The store did have cameras, though, so you could try that."

  I finish writing and tear off a small piece of paper, scribbling my number on it. "If you remember anything, call me."

  The owner takes it with a nod.

  Alister, however, isn't done. "So tell me, did you believe the gems were magical, or was that just part of your sales pitch?"

  The man chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just a sales pitch, kid. I say a lot of things to make a sale."

  Figures.

  With nothing left to say, we collect our things and head for the door. The moment we step outside, the fresh air is a relief, crisp and cool against my skin. I hadn't realized how stuffy it was in there.

  I look up at the sky as the sun dips lower on the horizon, washing the city in a golden glow.

  I pull my gaze away from the sky and glance at him. "We'll head to the gas station tomorrow and ask to see their security footage from the day the owner bought the jewels," I say. "Maybe we'll catch a glimpse of something useful-a clue, the suspicious person, anything."

  Alister strokes his chin in thought, his dark eyes sharp with consideration. "We could even get the plate number of his car."

  I nod. "Exactly."

  "We could go now," he offers casually, as if it were that simple.

  I shake my head. "The location is too far. I won't make it back home in time if we go now." I then give him a stern look "And don't you dare go alone. This concerns me too, you know."

  By this time, the streets have come alive with a vibrant energy, as people pour onto the sidewalks, eager to reach their destinations before the day's end.

  Just as Alister starts walking away, I yell out at him. "Wait!"

  He turns, watching me warily.

  "There's something we should clear up first," I say, stepping forward. "If we're going to be working together like this moving forward, we need to fully trust each other. No backstabbing. No lying. Just complete trust between us," I extend my hand toward him, palm open and inviting. I flash him a wide, sincere-looking smile-too sweet to be real.

  He just stares at my hand, suspicion etched across his face. So, without giving him the chance to pull away, I reach out and clasp his hand with both of mine, giving it a firm shake.

  "From now on, we are allies." I say, still beaming.

  I still don't trust him. Not for a second. Does he really expect me to forget everything that's happened? To pretend he never wanted me dead? I just hope this makes him get a little sloppy with whatever he planned next. If I manage to make him believe I'm going to blindly trust him because of my circumstances, he might become easier to read and let his guard down just a little. Just enough to make me keep him under control while we're going through all this.

  Dealing with someone like Alister-someone who isn't right in the head-is like walking on a tightrope over an abyss. One misstep, and I could fall.

  He scoffs as he lets go of my hand, stepping back with a parting wave before turning toward his car.

  Suddenly my phone rings, and I feel panic grip my heart as I stare down at the words, Mother.

  "H-Hello?"

  "Where are you!?" She yells.

  "I-I'm at campus." I try to say as I distance myself from the road and the noisy cars. My driver was supposed to pick me up when classes end. I purposely informed my mother the wrong time so that I could slip away to the antique shop and call him to pick me up from here, making it our little secret that I went somewhere without permission.

  How...how did she find out? Mr. Henderson would never have ratted me out.

  "Don't lie to me, you ungrateful brat!" She snaps again. If she's able to shout, she must be in the study room right now with its soundproof walls. Away from curious ears. "Sophia told me you disappeared somewhere without a driver. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to listen to that deranged Katherine go on about you lying to me and doing who knows what?"

  I almost drop the phone when I hear her name.

  I see...so this is payback.

  "I'm sorry, Mother. I simply went to a nearby café. I promise I'm not doing-"

  "Come home. Now. Or I swear, Clara, I'll make you regret testing me." Her voice drops into a warning growl. "You know what happens when you disobey."

  As soon as the call ends, I take out my cigarette and lighter from my bag. The lighter's engraved logo catches my eye for a brief moment before I flip it open and a small flame erupts.

  As I stare at it, it reminds me of the burning house in my dream.

  My parents will kill me first if they find this out about me. It's something not even Sophia and the others know. A guilty pleasure of mine.

  I take a drag on the cigarette after lighting it up. The smoke fills my lungs, and I feel a sudden rush of relaxation. The nicotine hits my bloodstream, and I sense the familiar calming effect wash over me.

  Sometimes...I wish the days would stretch longer so I wouldn't have to go home.