In the car, his voice softened. “Don’t worry. Snowball’s already been checked in through special channels. She’ll be on the same flight. Everything’s arranged.”
Her throat tightened. “Thank you.” It was all she could manage. Gratitude sat heavy in her chest, almost painful.
—
At the airport VIP lounge, the lights glowed sterile and bright. Clara sat in the corner, staring at her phone as it flickered with yet another incoming call.
She hesitated, then slid to answer. Silence pressed for a moment. Then came ragged, animal-like breathing, harsh and uneven.
“Clara!” Adrian’s roar cracked through the receiver. “Speak!”
Her lips parted, voice calm. “It’s me. What else is there to say? Goodbye.”
“No! I won’t let you say goodbye!” His voice spiraled out of control, a grotesque mix of rage and terror. “You’re not leaving! Come back here—right now! I was wrong, I admit it! Everything was my fault. Clara, come back… we can start again!”
Her face remained still, expressionless, listening as though to a stranger.
Then his tone snapped, switching to that familiar cruelty. “Don’t forget—in Baybridge, I’m king. Run as far as you want, I’ll drag you back. No one escapes me. Don’t force me to use my hands.”