Chapter 5 - The Lowe Affair

Claire knows that, by hotel management standards, taking Pearl to the police station could anger her mother-in-law. She's already imagined all the ways Catherine Lowe might "punish" her for stepping out of line.

But she never expected that the matriarch, who always presents herself as composed and refined in public, would break so completely—and so theatrically.

Claire just got off work, barely had time to eat, when a group stormed in, led by the Lowe family's butler. With no one at Maple Ridge Residence to stop them, they moved with total authority.

Fifty-something Mr. Carter, smiling but not really smiling, addresses Claire, "Madam, may we have a word?"

Even after three years living with the Lowes, Claire feels like she's stepped back in time—maybe into some old estate from the early twentieth century.

She grips her phone tightly, grounding herself in reality. Margaret and Mr. Carter have both been with the Lowes for decades. Claire blinks at the show of force. A single call should have sufficed, right? Did they really need this many people?

Claire smiles lightly. "Mr. Carter, is this really necessary? One phone call wouldn't have sufficed?"

He regards her with a faintly meaningful glance. "I'm just following orders. You know what you've done, Madam. Others are waiting."

If she had been a bride just arrived at the Lowes, this display might have unnerved her. But she isn't the Claire of three years ago. She's seen plenty of absurdities at Maple Ridge, and the grind of life has tempered her nerves.

She replies calmly, "If that's what you've been told, then lead the way."

"You haven't eaten yet," Margaret says instinctively.

Claire laughs softly. "Margaret, does the manor really lack a meal for me?"

By the time Claire reaches the old family estate, she's starving. She didn't sleep well, thinking over her conversation with Ethan about divorce, and her appetite has been nearly gone.

Marriage or divorce—she didn't expect joy. Nobody marries expecting a divorce. If life could be perfect, who wouldn't want it? But reality never plays along. She's exhausted, fed up with a lifeless marriage, and ready to file for freedom.

And yet, she hadn't expected this. The moment she steps into the estate, she is confronted with a grand display.

In the wide, well-tended garden, the household staff lines up in neat rows. Catherine sits at the center, waiting. Claire freezes. Anyone unaware might think she'd committed a grave crime.

Catherine doesn't let her sit. Claire stands there, facing her mother-in-law and the staff. Catherine begins a lecture, the kind that meanders from humanity's rise to dominance, to national unity, to the strength of family, ending on the importance of household harmony.

Claire almost applauds at the rhetoric, silently observing Catherine's performance.

"Teaching a daughter-in-law is my responsibility. I apologize for the spectacle. But this one doesn't understand unity, the way a household thrives in harmony. Claire Lowe, do you understand what I've said?"

If this were the Claire of old, she would have nodded obediently. But after three years, she isn't so easily cowed. Claire had defended Pearl from trouble by calling the police, breaking the unspoken rules of family loyalty.

Her stomach growls. She thinks about quickly finishing this charade and grabbing some food. Then she notices Pearl on the balcony above, sipping her drink and smiling at her.

Claire feels a surge of frustration. Three years of being the dutiful, patient, hardworking, and obedient daughter-in-law, and now she's about to be free.

She tilts her head and smiles faintly. "Catherine, I understand your lesson about unity. But I believe that a child who is constantly spoiled and shielded will only create trouble in the future."

Catherine had not expected Claire to respond so boldly, and seeing her daughter suffer today only solidifies her anger. To publicly embarrass her, to challenge her in front of the staff—it's unheard of.

Catherine watches her for a moment, then finally motions for Claire to follow her into the deeper estate.

"You were angry when I lectured you in front of the staff?" Catherine asks.

"No," Claire replies, "I think you were upset because I let the police handle your daughter."

"Don't worry. We'll deal with her ourselves. This is family business." Catherine's voice hardens.

Claire senses the weight in her words. After three years, no matter how much she tried to charm or appease Catherine, she remains an outsider.

"Pearl is the family's treasured one, beloved by her elder brother," Catherine continues as they walk. She references Ethan's late older brother, weaving tales of his love and care for the girl.

The path grows more shadowed, the garden's ornate corners darker. Claire realizes how little of the estate she has explored in three years.

She doesn't know where Catherine is taking her.

Eventually, they arrive. Claire's breath catches. She's staring at a dimly lit summerhouse. Parchments covered with strange, cryptic symbols flutter gently in the night air. At the center, a small memorial holds a black-and-white photo of Ethan's deceased elder brother, surrounded by mementos. In the photo, the man's eyes seem to fixate on her.

Goosebumps rise. Claire's heart races. Hunger and fatigue vanish. Her face pales, cold sweat breaking out. She's never afraid of insects, but the unknown, the inexplicable, terrifies her.

Catherine grips her hand and strides forward, tears streaming. "Pearl is her brother's treasure. If he were here, no one would harm her. If you were still around, I wouldn't feel this pain..."

Claire stiffens, unsure whether she's being accused of some unforgivable crime. The strange papers sway in the wind like restless spirits.

"Now, apologize to him. Haven't you wronged his sister?" Catherine demands.

Claire blinks, biting her lip. "Apologize...for what?"

"You don't understand? You've hurt his sister!" Catherine's voice is filled with disbelief. "You're ungrateful, and I can't tolerate it. Apologize before you leave."

Before Claire can react, Catherine storms away, shutting the ornate gate with a sharp click.

Claire snaps back to reality, panicked. The lock holds. She's surrounded by the flickering symbols and the eerie shadows of the memorial.

"Mom! You can't do this! Open the door!" she cries, shaking. This isn't the 21st century. This is madness.

Her fear overwhelms her. She forgets her phone.

When Ethan bursts through, he finds Claire curled up, trembling, murmuring incoherently.

"Claire!" Ethan frowns, reaching out to her.

She screams, flailing, eyes closed. "No! Don't! Stay away!"

"It's me!" Ethan says gently. He's seen Claire's bold, fearless side these three years, but never like this. Her vulnerability strikes him deeply.

He bends down, gathering her into his arms. His eyes flick to the memorial, then he strides out. Under the streetlight, he sees her tear-streaked face, and his chest tightens.

She clings to him, shivering.

"Claire," he murmurs, crouching, lifting her chin so she can meet his gaze. "It's okay."

She gasps for breath. Ethan covers her mouth gently to steady her, and they lock eyes.

Finally, he whispers, "You're safe now."

Claire exhales shakily, pale and weak. She mutters faintly before closing her eyes, "Let's finalize the divorce..."

Ethan freezes. The hand that had covered her lips tightens unconsciously.