Chapter : Three- The living in the Shadow

The weeks that followed were a slow descent into hell.

Clara and I lived in constant fear — fear of slipping, of being caught, of the truth clawing its way to the surface. She avoided family gatherings, claiming headaches or exhaustion. When she did show up, her clothes grew baggier, her smiles more forced. My fiancée noticed, of course. She worried about her sister, pressing her to see a doctor, asking questions we couldn’t answer.

Each question was a dagger twisting in my gut.

“Do you think she’s depressed?” she asked me one evening as we folded laundry together. “She’s so quiet lately. It doesn’t feel like her.”

I forced a shrug, pretending to be as confused as she was. “Maybe she just needs space. You know Clara — she goes through moods.”

But the truth was, I could see Clara breaking. She was carrying more than just the weight of a child; she was carrying the burden of silence. And every time our eyes met across a room, the guilt burned between us like a hidden fire.

We tried to talk once, late at night when no one else was awake. She sat on the edge of my car outside the house, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“I can’t keep lying,” she whispered. “Every time she looks at me, I feel sick.”

“You think I don’t?” My voice came out harsher than I intended. “But if she finds out, it’s over. Everything’s over.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Maybe it already is.”

I didn’t answer. Because deep down, I knew she was right.

The pressure grew unbearable. My fiancée would laugh and make plans about the wedding, about our honeymoon, about the house we’d someday buy. And I’d sit there nodding, smiling, while my insides twisted into knots. Every time she reached for my hand, I wondered if she could feel the tremor in my touch, if she sensed the storm waiting to break.

And Clara… she was running out of time. Each day made it harder to hide. Each glance in the mirror reminded her of the truth.

Secrets can only survive in the dark for so long. And ours was about to be dragged into the light.

It happened one Sunday afternoon, the kind of day that should have been ordinary. My fiancée had invited her family over for lunch — her parents, a cousin or two, and of course, Clara.

Clara showed up late, wearing a loose cardigan even though the sun was hot. She kept her head down as she slipped into her chair at the table. My fiancée immediately noticed.

“You’re losing weight,” she said, studying her sister’s face with concern. “You look pale. Are you sick?”

Clara stiffened, her fork trembling in her hand. I felt the air shift, heavy, dangerous.

“No, I’m fine,” she muttered quickly, but her voice cracked.

“Fine?” My fiancée frowned, reaching across the table to touch her hand. “Clara, you’re not fine. You’ve been avoiding me, avoiding all of us. What’s going on?”

Clara’s eyes darted to mine for the briefest second, a silent plea, a flash of panic. My chest tightened, and for one wild moment, I thought she was going to say it. I thought the truth was about to erupt right there, in the middle of Sunday lunch, with the entire family as witness.

“I…” Clara’s lips parted. Her hand went to her stomach, as if unconsciously protecting what none of them knew yet.

I jumped in before she could continue. “She’s just stressed,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Work’s been crazy for her lately. You know how Clara gets when she’s under pressure.”

The table fell silent. My fiancée glanced between us, suspicion flickering in her eyes, but then she sighed and let go of her sister’s hand. “You need to take care of yourself,” she said gently.

The conversation moved on, but Clara didn’t eat a bite. I couldn’t taste my food either. My heart was still pounding from how close we had come to disaster.

Later, when the others had gone, I caught Clara alone in the hallway.

“You can’t do that,” I hissed under my breath. “You can’t almost say something like that in front of everyone.”

Her eyes blazed as she turned on me. “Do you think I want to? Do you think I can keep living like this? Every day is a lie, and I’m choking on it.”

I didn’t have an answer. Because the truth was, I was choking too.

And that was when I realized — it wasn’t a matter of if the truth came out. It was only a matter of when it came out 

The city slept, but the shadows never did.

Adrian moved silently through the alleyways, his coat pulled tight against the chill of the night. Every step was careful, measured, because one wrong move could bring the world crashing down on him and those he cared about. Living in the shadows was no longer just a choice — it had become survival.

Clara followed a few steps behind, her eyes scanning the rooftops. She had grown sharper in these weeks, her instincts honed by the danger that seemed to cling to them like smoke. Every whisper of wind felt like a warning. Every flicker of light, a potential trap.

Elianna stayed close, though fear lingered behind her wide eyes. She was not yet hardened like Adrian or Clara, but there was a spark of determination that refused to die. She was learning that in this life, survival required more than strength — it required cunning, patience, and sometimes, ruthlessness.

The Hidden Safehouse

They arrived at a small, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city — their temporary refuge. Rusted metal groaned under the weight of years, and the windows were boarded, but inside, they could breathe for the first time in days.

Adrian lit a single lantern, its soft glow revealing maps and notes scattered across the floor. Clara knelt beside them, tracing lines with her fingers, connecting places, people, and events.

“We can’t stay long,” she said, voice low. “The Council’s men are close. If they find us here, it’s over.”

Elianna swallowed hard, gripping the edge of a table. “Then what do we do? We can’t keep running forever.”

Adrian’s eyes were distant, calculating. “We don’t run. We wait, we watch… and then we strike.”

Tensions Rise

The three of them sat in silence, the storm outside echoing their uncertainty.

Clara finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. “Adrian… you can’t keep carrying this burden alone. We all have to fight, all of us. Otherwise…”

Elianna’s gaze dropped, and Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Otherwise we fall,” he finished for her. The words were heavy with unspoken loss, a reminder of what they had already sacrificed.

For a moment, none of them moved. The shadows seemed to grow longer, reaching into every corner of the room, whispering secrets of enemies they had not yet faced.