Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 3

She didn't know who else to turn to for the $2,000 she desperately needed, so by nine that evening, she found herself dialing Dylan's number once more, albeit reluctantly.

A deep, cold voice, reminiscent of snow crunching underfoot in winter, answered. "Clara?"-

Clara felt an invisible hand squeeze her throat, a wave of helplessness crashing over her. "Hey, Dylan, could you lend me $20,000? I'm at the hospital and can't cover the medical bills."

From the other end, she could hear his steady breathing and the faint rustle of fabric. Just when Clara braced herself for a refusal, he surprised her by asking, "What's your account number?"

"I... let me find it."

She frantically grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, terrified he might hang up. The nurse had assured her it was hers, but it seemed to contain only makeup essentials. Finally, she found a bank card hidden in the innermost pocket and quickly relayed the number to him.

Not even a minute later, the alert on her phone confirmed that the funds had arrived.

Clara hesitated to end the call. Since losing her memory, Dylan was the only one who hadn't shunned her. For three long minutes, she lingered in silence, unsure of what to say next. Miraculously, Dylan didn't hang up either. The only connection between them now was the faint sound of their breaths over the line.

"Dylan, I..."

"Are you badly hurt?"

His voice wasn't exactly comforting, but Clara detected a hint of concern—the kind she had longed for since waking up. Touched but at a loss for words, she managed to say, "I'm okay now. Thanks. I'll figure out a way to pay you back."

"Clara, how long do you plan on deceiving me this time?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she hastily ended the call, her thoughts swirling. What did he mean by that? Had she lied to Dylan before? The more she thought about it, the more bewildered she became.

She decided to pay off her outstanding bills and completed her discharge paperwork. As she stood at the hospital entrance, she felt lost, unsure of where to go next. She had no money and no clue where her home was. Eventually, she pieced together her address from text messages and called a cab.

Simon sneered, his contempt evident. "I'd rather give it to a beggar than to you."

He looked down at Quinn, reassuring her, "Let's go inside. Don't worry about her."

Quinn dabbed at her eyes. A small smile appeared on her lips. "Clara, here's my card. You can use it."

Clara lowered her gaze, swallowing her pride, and reached for the card because she was truly strapped for cash. Sometimes, you have to swallow your pride and face reality.

But before her fingers touched the card, another luxury car pulled up. Her mother, Naomi, witnessed the scene, stormed out, and marched over, slapping Clara right across the face.

"Are you picking on Quinn again? Haven't you taken enough from her? Clara, what do you want from us? Do you want everyone to suffer because of you? Since Quinn was found, you've been causing her trouble every day. Why weren't you taken away instead? Quinn's been through so much, and you still don't get it!"