Clara is hiding something, but it may not be quite what you think ;)

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Chapter 32

As Clara sipped her tea, careful not to burn her tongue on the hot beverage, she became increasingly aware that someone was watching her. Under normal circumstances, it would have made her uneasy, but as it was, she merely turned her head and smiled at the girl standing awkwardly next to the sofa.

"Hi Melody," she said softly. "How are you doing?"

The child remained quiet for a moment and slowly averted her eyes, looking from Clara back to her mother. She didn't seem particularly happy. "Mum," she began, "don't you think it's weird to invite my teacher over for tea?"

Amy laughed in response. Melody was only ten and normally Clara taught the older children, but a shortage of teachers had forced her and the school to improvise. Clearly, Melody wasn't thrilled with the setup, at least not when her mother was friends with her teacher.

The child shrieked in surprise when Amy suddenly reached out and lifted her daughter onto her lap. "Why?" she asked, her Scottish accent audible. "Don't you like Clara? I think she's nice."

"She's my teacher", the girl argued moodily.

"Well, I'm not a teacher right now," Clara explained. "Trust me, when I leave that building, I'm just about as eager as you to go back inside. But don't tell the others."

"Is that why you always take so long to mark our homework?" Melody enquired curiously.

Clara chuckled in response. "That's exactly why," she replied and leaned forward just a little, looking straight at Melody. "I promise, I've got better things to talk to your mum about than how you're doing at school. No need to worry."

That finally seemed to ease the girl's mind and her features lit up a little. A few seconds later, she jumped off her mother's lap and darted out of the living room. Once they were on their own again, Clara raised her tea mug to her lips and considered her options. She had come here for a reason, but she wasn't quite sure how to approach the topic without arousing suspicion.

"Okay, promises aside. How is she doing at school?" Amy wanted to know.

Clara couldn't help but laugh. When she had arrived here, she had felt nervous and frightened and her friend had lightened the mood without even knowing that something was wrong. "Melody's doing well," she explained. "There's not much else I can say. You've seen her homework."

"True," her friend agreed, not without a smug look on her face. "I'm raising a little genius."

Clara wouldn't go that far, but she wasn't in the mood to burst her friend's bubbles tonight. Besides, Amy wasn't the kind of parent who would praise her child if praise wasn't warranted. When Clara failed to reply, Amy must have noticed that something was off and she squinted her eyes at her.

"You didn't come here for a cup of tea and a chat, did you?" her friend wanted to know.

Clara forced a smile. "That was the main reason," she lied. The main reason was not having to stay at her house on her own. The second break-in and the note were still on Clara's mind.

At last, Amy reached for her teacup as well and sipped the drink, but she never took her eyes off Clara even for a second. "And the other reason?" she wanted to know.

Clara inhaled deeply. "Remember the box I gave you?"

Her friend nodded. "You mean Danny's love letters? The ones that you gave me so you wouldn't be tempted to read them every single day?"

She smiled at her friend. "I need that box back," Clara stated plainly. It couldn't stay here with Amy.

However, her friend seemed to have a different opinion as she set her mug down on the table. The sound it made when the ceramic hit the wooden surface was audible in the quiet living room. Then, Amy sighed and Clara could tell that a long conversation was to follow. "Clara, you gave them to me cause you said it hurt to look at them," she said. "It's only been a couple of weeks. Don't you think I should… you know, keep them safe for you for a while longer? Do you really think you're ready?"

"That's not the point," she protested. "They're mine and I want them back."

Amy hesitated for a while and it looked as if she would continue to try to talk her out of it, but eventually, she uttered a heavy sigh and rose from her seat. Clara watched as her friend crossed the room and opened a cupboard from which she retrieved the metal box Clara had given her a couple of weeks ago. She had kept the key, hidden away in a safe place in her house. But nothing was safe inside her house, not anymore, least of all Clara herself.

"Ugh," Amy uttered, "I had forgotten how heavy it was. Danny must have been one hell of a writer."

Her friend dropped the box on the sofa next to where Clara was sitting and instinctively, she reached out to touch it as if someone would appear out of nowhere and snatch it away from her.

"Thank you," Clara said sincerely. "I really appreciate that you kept hold of it for me."

"Don't mention it," Amy replied with a shrug. However, her eyes remained focused on Clara and she waited for a moment until she asked the question she had really been meaning to ask all along. "How are you doing?"

In response, Clara blew the air out between her teeth. "I'm not sure," she said truthfully. "I mean, I guess I'm coping as well as I can, given the circumstances. With Bonnie being my sister and all."

Amy's gaze was boring into her. "Still mad at your dad? I mean, I'd understand if you were. That's a big secret to keep."

She didn't respond because she didn't know how to. Her father was the least of her worries right now. All Clara wanted was for the nightmare to be over.

"And what about the detective?" Amy enquired.

"Which one?"

A smile appeared on Amy's face. "You know exactly which one."

John Smith was a big part of why she wanted this chapter of her life to be over. Clara liked him, she really did. He was kind, and in his presence she felt understood and protected. Of course, Amy and her other friends and family members could speak about how they could relate, but they couldn't, not really. John was the only one who could thanks to what he had been through and as long as the case remained open, Clara felt as if she was using him. Bonnie's death, as long as the mystery remained unsolved, felt like a wall between them.

"He's a big help," Clara replied eventually. "If anyone can solve this, I'm sure it's him."

It was obvious from the look on her face that it wasn't the answer her friend had wanted to hear, but Clara didn't care as her gaze wandered to the heavy box next to her. It couldn't stay with Amy and Clara didn't exactly feel confident enough to take it home. Unknowingly, her friend had given her the perfect idea and now, Clara knew exactly what to do.