Ryan's POV
The city outside my office window glowed like a restless machine—lights blinking, horns blaring, people moving fast as if afraid to stop. Yet all I could hear was the laughter of a little girl.
Clara…
Her voice had carried something unusual—an ease, a brightness that reminded me of mornings before the world taught you how to wear masks. Children rarely spoke to me; I wasn't exactly the approachable kind. My tone was strict when I picked up her call, but she didn't shrink. Instead, she matched me with humor, gentle but daring, as if she knew I wasn't as rigid as I pretended to be.
I leaned back in my chair, loosening my tie, and for the first time in weeks, the reports on my desk lost their importance. What kind of courage does it take for a child to pick up a stranger's card and call? She couldn't have known me, yet she trusted enough to speak. Maybe that was what moved me—her unguarded trust. I envied it.
When I was her age, trust had been a luxury I couldn't afford. My world was rules, cold silences, and expectations heavy enough to crush bones. There had been no space for laughter. But Clara laughed, even when I tried to be stern. She had the boldness to ask questions, to linger, to fill the silence with warmth. And I… I let her.
I caught myself smiling, a rare, dangerous thing. Ryan Blake didn't smile without reason. Yet the thought of her small voice—half mischief, half innocence—kept tugging at me. She had called me "Mr. Serious" before Julian stole the phone, and somehow, I didn't mind the nickname. For reasons I couldn't explain, I wanted to hear her again.
Emily's POV
The rain had started again by the time I climbed the stairs to our small apartment. My shoes were soaked, my blouse clinging uncomfortably to my skin, and my body ached with the exhaustion of the day. I just wanted quiet, maybe a warm bath, and Clara's smile to ease the edge of fatigue.
But instead, I was greeted by a sharp knock at the door.
Mr. Walters, our landlord, stood there with a ledger in his hand and impatience carved into the wrinkles of his forehead. "Miss Carter, the rent was due last week."
My stomach tightened. "I know, sir. I—"
"I can't keep waiting," he interrupted, his voice flat. "Others pay on time. You're already behind."
Heat rose to my cheeks. I hated this—hated the way my pride burned while my hands were tied. I clasped them together, forcing my tone into calm. "Please, give me until the end of the month. I'll make sure you have it. I promise."
He sighed, eyes narrowing like he'd heard this before. "End of the month, Emily. No more delays."
When he finally left, the weight of his footsteps echoing down the hall, I leaned against the door, pressing my forehead to the cool wood. The moment cracked something inside me. I whispered, almost to myself, "Just hold on a little longer, Em."
I prayed Clara hadn't overheard. She deserved a childhood free of burdens she couldn't fix.
Clara's POV
But I had overheard.
From the small crack of my bedroom door, I saw the way Emily's shoulders slumped the second Mr. Walters walked away. I saw how she held herself like she was carrying a mountain no one else could see.
I hugged my knees tighter to my chest.
Part of me wanted to run to her, tell her everything would be okay. But another part… another part clung to the little secret burning inside me. The phone call.
Ryan. His voice had been strict at first, like a teacher catching you sneaking sweets in class. But then it softened, melting into something kind. Warm. He wasn't like the men Emily always warned me about. And Julian—oh, Julian was funny. He'd teased me about sounding braver than I looked.
I liked them. I really, really liked them.
But what if Emily found out? She always told me never to talk to strangers. Yet Ryan didn't feel like a stranger. He felt… safe. Different.
Still, the thought of her disappointment was enough to twist my stomach. So I tucked the memory away, promising myself I'd keep it secret. Just mine.
– Emily's POV
I forced myself to cook. The clatter of pots and the soft hiss of oil were small comforts after a long day. Clara joined me at the table, her hands folded neatly, eyes darting to me and then away.
"Long day?" she asked carefully.
"Mhm," I hummed, setting a bowl of stew before her. "What about you? Did you finish your reading?"
She nodded quickly. Too quickly. "Yes. Mostly."
I narrowed my eyes just slightly, but she smiled at me with such innocence I didn't have the heart to press. Instead, I reached over and brushed a curl from her face. "You'll do well, Clara. I believe in you."
We ate quietly after that, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. I wanted to ask more, to dig into whatever was hiding behind her eyes, but exhaustion weighed me down. So instead, I let it go, telling myself, She'll come to me when she's ready.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was carrying something—something she thought she had to protect me from.
Clara's POV –
The secret pulsed in me like a heartbeat as I curled into Emily's arms. She smelled like lavender soap and rain. Safe.
She whispered softly, "Tomorrow's your entrance exam practice, remember? You'll be great."
I nodded, though my mind was far away. I thought about Ryan's voice, the warmth in Julian's laugh. I thought about how Emily would react if she knew. Maybe she'd be angry. Maybe she'd never let me near a phone again.
So I buried the thought, pressing my face into her shoulder. For tonight, I would hold my secret close and let her think I was only nervous about the exam.
Clara's POV –
I woke early, the gray light of dawn creeping across the room. My books lay scattered on the desk, but the company card was tucked neatly between the pages like a pressed flower. I touched it once before hiding it again, as if it gave me courage.
Today mattered. Today I had to prove myself, not just to Emily, but to me. If I scored well, maybe Emily would worry less. Maybe she wouldn't look so tired at the end of every day.
By the time Emily knocked softly on my door, I was dressed, scarf slightly crooked. She smiled, fixing it for me. "You'll do fine," she whispered.
I smiled back, even though the secret still lingered, folded tight in my chest like the card in my book.
And with that, we stepped into the day.....