CLARA'S VISIT

Chapter 5: Clara's Visit

"I want you to come to the manor," Miguel said over the phone.

I was in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the household. I wasn't allowed to answer phones. I wasn't allowed to do much of anything except remain invisible.

"I want to see you," Miguel continued, his voice cold and controlled. "I want us to talk."

I froze, a knife suspended above the vegetables I was cutting.

"I'll be there within the hour," a voice said through the speaker. It was Clara's voice, soft, uncertain, trembling with what sounded like vulnerability.

Miguel hung up.

I stood there in the kitchen, listening to the silence. Clara was coming. My sister was coming to Antonio Manor. And from the tone of Miguel's voice, I already knew what he believed: that I had something to do with her disappearance. That I had caused her to run away.

An hour later, I heard the car pull up outside.

I kept my head down, my hands moving mechanically through the work. Chop. Stir. Season. Don't look up. Don't acknowledge anything. Just be invisible.

But I could hear her voice downstairs. Clara's voice, soft and trembling.

"I don't know where I was," she was saying to Miguel. "I can't remember. After the wedding, I remember speaking to Mara. Just briefly. And then... nothing. It's all blank. I don't know how I got to where I was. I don't know who brought me back. It's like a nightmare I can't quite wake up from."

I gripped the counter.

"You don't remember anything?" Miguel's voice was sharp, skeptical, probing.

"Only Mara," Clara said, and her voice cracked slightly. "I remember her face. I remember that she said something to me, but I can't recall what. And then I was somewhere else. Somewhere dark. Somewhere frightening. And I couldn't find my way home."

The lie was so complete, so perfectly constructed, that for a moment I almost believed it myself.

"Honestly, I do not know what to say. I'm really confused about the whole situation." Miguel said. "If you spoke to Mara before you disappeared, then she might know something. Then she's truly guilty. But I don't seem to understand why she still doesn't want to surrender and accept the fact that she's guilty and we all know.”

There was a pause.

“I think I should speak to Mara,” Clara said quietly. “Maybe seeing her will help me remember."

“Yes, you should.”

The knife tapped against the cutting board once. Then again. My fingers were locked around the handle but the blade wouldn’t sit still, like the wood was pushing it back up.

Within minutes, there were footsteps on the stairs. Miguel's footsteps, and behind them, Clara's lighter footfall. They were coming to the east wing. They were coming to find me.

I set down the knife carefully and turned to face the door.

Miguel appeared first, his dark eyes hard and cold. Behind him came Clara, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her blue eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. She looked vulnerable. She looked traumatized. She looked like the victim.

"Mara," Miguel said, his voice cutting through the air like ice. "Clara wants to speak with you. About what happened. About why you caused her to disappear."

"I didn't cause—" I started.

"Why did you do this to me?" Clara interrupted, her voice breaking. She stepped forward, her hands trembling. "Mara, why would you do something so cruel? What have I ever done to deserve this?"

I stared at her. At the girl who had smiled at me on my wedding day and then twisted the knife.

"Clara, it wasn't me, I would never do such a thing," I said quietly. "You know I would never do something like this to you. Mum—"

"Stop," Clara said sharply, cutting me off. Her voice changed for just a moment, became harder, colder. Then she caught herself and let it tremble again. "Stop lying, Mara. Stop trying to blame other people. You did this. You made me disappear. You traumatized me. Stop trying to act all innocent."

"Stop lying," Clara said sharply, her voice rising so that Miguel could hear every word clearly. "Stop trying to act innocent. You did this. You made me disappear. You traumatized me."

The words hung in the air between us.

I realized what she was doing. She was making sure Miguel heard only her version of events. She was controlling the entire conversation. She was maintaining her narrative of victimhood while positioning me as the villain.

"Clara, I'm telling you the truth," I whispered. "I didn't—"

"I don't want to hear it," she said loudly, tears streaming down her perfect face. "I don't want to hear your excuses. And I never want to see you again."

She turned to Miguel and her arms crossed, but it wasn’t the tight, defensive fold. One hand slid up to her elbow like she was checking it was still there. Her chin dipped just enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said to him, not to me. "I just... I can't be around her right now. It's too painful. Being near her... it brings back everything I can't remember."

"Of course," Miguel said coldly. His dark eyes moved from Clara to me, and I saw the confirmation in his expression. He'd heard everything he needed to hear. Mara had denied it. Mara had lied. Mara was exactly what he believed her to be.

He turned and left the east wing, escorting Clara away from me.

The counter bit into my palms. I leaned into it harder than I needed to, like the tile was the only thing keeping the floor where it was. My knees kept trying to fold. I locked them, but they buzzed anyway, a low, stupid tremor I couldn’t will away.

It wasn't until much later, after I'd finally managed to sit down on the kitchen floor, that I noticed the phone on the edge of the counter. Clara's phone. She must have left it behind when she'd turned away from me with such theatrical pain.

I shouldn't have touched it. Every instinct told me to leave it alone, to pretend I hadn't seen it.

But my hands moved on their own, reaching for it, picking it up with shaking fingers.

The screen was dark, but as I held it, a notification lit up. A text message from Clara to someone named Victoria: "Did exactly what I planned. Miguel completely believes she did it. And the best part? She almost told him about Mum. But I cut her off before she could ruin everything. Poor Mara. She has no idea I orchestrated my own disappearance. She thinks this is all some accident. She's so predictable."

The room tilted.