There is something odd about Clara's secrets, the IRA involvement and the unknown twin sister, isn't there? Let's see how that continues...

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Chapter 31

At the end of every school day, Clara took a moment to tidy up her desk. It wasn't so much that it needed tidying, but she just liked to return to a well-organised workspace the following morning and usually, it gave her students an opportunity to talk to her after class. Today, however, it wasn't a student that walked up to her desk, but one of the parents and as soon as Clara raised her head to see who it was, she knew that it wouldn't be about school.

Clara straightened her back and shoulders, trying to look as tall as possible even though there was no way she would ever tower over Kate Stewart. "Hi," she greeted her with as much determination as she could muster. The interview was still on Clara's mind, along with the memory of not having made the best impression. "What I can do for you? If you're looking for the kids, they finished school an hour ago."

Kate granted her a smile in response. "They're at home already," she explained. Then, she lowered her gaze as if she was somehow embarrassed. "My partner pointed out that I was a little insensitive during your interview and I wanted to apologise for that."

When the detective raised her head, Clara waited for a moment, thinking that surely something would follow, but Kate remained silent. Clara nodded. "A little, yes," she replied, but the tone of her voice gave away what she really thought, that bringing up Danny had been completely out of line.

"You have to understand that we want to find out what happened to your sister and until we can safely say that it was an accident, we have to investigate every possibility. Do you understand that?"

She understood. She understood Kate's words very well. As long as they hadn't figured it out, Clara would remain a suspect. Kate's message was very clear on that part and frankly, she could understand why. She was the sister, she had no alibi and then there was the mysterious note in Bonnie's pocket. Kate would be stupid to rule her out as a suspect.

"I understand," she replied simply. "And I hope you find out what happened to my sister. I didn't know her, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what happened to her."

"We're doing our best," Kate reassured her and then Clara watched as she let her gaze wander around the room. Instinctively, she followed the detective's eyes as she looked at the posters that lined the walls. They were students' works, of course, posters about cities from all over the world from New York to Sydney. Then, Kate's eyes stopped at one poster in particular. "I've been to Belfast once, a couple of years back. Dreadful city. How about you?"

Clara shook her head. She knew exactly what Kate was doing and it wouldn't work. When it came to that, Clara had nothing to hide. "No, never been," she said.

"Do you don't have friends or family there?"

For a brief moment, Clara wondered if the amusement was visible on her face. "Well, there's Bonnie, but you know that story."

"Yeah," Kate replied eventually. "I know."

When she fell silent, Clara assumed that the detective had run out of questions to ask and she realised that their conversation was about to come to an end. To save them both time, Clara decided to cut the goodbye short.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she wanted to know.

Kate considered it for a moment. "Not really, no," she said. "I mainly came by to apologise for… you know."

No matter how often she said it, Clara somehow knew that it wasn't the truth. Of course, the apology would restore the peace at the office, but mainly, Kate had come here to remind Clara that she was still a suspect until further notice.

"I appreciate it," Clara said regardless because not accepting the apology would only cause more trouble and she wasn't keen on that. She shouldn't be a source of tension between John and Kate. That wouldn't help the investigation or John's career.

When Kate Stewart left, Clara gathered her things, stuffed them into her bag and headed outside to where her motorcycle was already waiting for her. Even though the weather was nice for a February day, a part of her already longed for spring just so she could leave the thick gloves and winter jacket at home and just enjoy the ride without worrying about losing all feeling in her thighs in the icy wind.

Her thoughts about her freezing legs kept her occupied during the ride home, but as soon as she arrived at her house, Clara suddenly forgot all about it and it didn't take her very long to notice that something was off. If someone had asked her what had given it away, Clara wouldn't have known what to say because first and foremost, it was her instinct that tipped her off, a weird feeling in her gut that let her know something had happened.

Clara parked the motorcycle next to the house, took off her helmet and approached the house with careful steps, slowly inching closer bit by bit. From the outside, it looked almost normal as if nothing at all had happened, but soon, Clara noticed the bush under her window. It was winter and the twigs were empty of leaves, but some of them had been broken, as though they'd been trampled. Then her eyes wandered up to the open window. Someone had broken in again.

Clutching her helmet in her right hand, determined to use it as a weapon if necessary, Clara stepped inside. She couldn't hear a thing except for her own breathing and the sound of the wind coming in through the open window. No steps, no rustling, just nothing at all.

Once she had convinced herself that the house was indeed empty apart from herself, Clara walked towards the window and closed it properly, noticing a few marks where the intruder had pried it open and suddenly, she felt grateful that he hadn't broken it like he had broken her lock. The window must have been open for quite a long time because as she made her way deeper into the house, Clara noticed that it wasn't any warmer in here than it was outside and finally, she felt confident enough to place the helmet aside. It was then that she spotted it.

In her living room, on the empty coffee table, lay a single note and the piece of paper instantly caught her attention. She approached the table to read it and her heart sank a little because what it demanded was the one thing she could never do.

I know you have it.

Give it to me and no one else will get hurt.