ログインBLURB Clara Langford once had everything until a plane crash stole her family and her future. Now she’s broke, alone, and fighting to rebuild her shattered life at Westbridge University. She promised herself no distractions. No love. No more heartbreak. Then she meets Alexander Robert, arrogant, magnetic, dangerous. He gets under her skin with one look, one smirk, one touch she should never want. And just when she thinks trouble has a name and a face… Adrian Hale appears. Gentle. Charming. Hiding secrets that shake her world. Two men. One girl with a past built on lies. Because the boy she’s falling for is linked to the man who destroyed her life. And Clara is about to learn that nothing about her tragedy was an accident.
もっと見るClara’s POV
I should have known that some moments are just too perfect to last. If anyone were to ask me to describe happiness, I would have pointed to that evening the warm orange glow of the sun setting as it drips across the plane window, my mother’s beautiful smile glowing beside me, and my brother Liam’s laughter shaking the seat between us. Dad was across the aisle, already dozing off, his newspaper slipping from his fingers. We had just wrapped up a long, sun-soaked summer vacation in Ukulhas in Maldives, and my skin still tasted like salt from the snorkeling we did . Everything felt light… almost too light, as if life itself had softened just to cradle us a little longer. Liam nudged me, his fourteen-year-old grin wide and mischievous. “Clara, if we crash, I’m eating your snacks first.” all giggling . I rolled my eyes, elbowed him lightly, and stole the bag of gummy bears he’d hidden in his hoodie. “You’ll never find them now ,” I whispered He glared dramatically. “Traitor.” Mom laughed, a sweet sound. You two never change. Her hand brushed my hair the way she always did when she wanted to freeze a moment, and for one brief second, I thought God, we are so lucky. My perfect family . If only I had held onto that thought just a little longer. Because moments later, the world began to shake. At first, it was only a tremor. A slight shiver in the metal body of the plane, like turbulence trying to be subtle. I didn’t think anything of it. None of us did. People stayed relaxed, chatting, flipping magazine pages. Taking selfie. But then the shiver grew teeth. The plane lurched violently, jolting us from our seats. A few passengers gasped; someone’s drink spilled, splattering across the aisle. My heartbeat began to beat faster .. The captain’s voice crackled overhead, tense,just too tense. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and fasten your seatbelts. We are experiencing unexpected ... His voice cut off, and suddenly, the plane dropped. Screams erupted instantly. Liam grabbed my hand tight, desperate. It was nothing like the playful grip from moments ago. Mom clutched the armrest, her eyes wide, searching for Dad. He was awake now, fear stripping the sleep from his face. The lights flickered once. Twice. Then darkness swallowed everything. For a breathless moment, the plane felt weightless, suspended in a nightmare where even gravity seemed confused. My head began to spin , and I couldn’t breathe. Someone behind us prayed loudly. Someone else cried for their child. An explosion of light burst outside the window like lightning, except hotter like so hot .. Then came the heat. Flames. Real flames, licking along the wing.The metal groaned, screaming a metallic death cry that would haunt me forever. “Mom!” I yelled over the chaos. “Dad! ”Gosh where is Liam! Dad was trying to unbuckle, reaching across the aisle toward us, toward Mom. His face was a mixture of terror and determination , and it burned itself into my memory. Liam’s hand was trembling in mine. “Clara… Clara, I’m scared.” I’m sorry, I have been a naughty little brother It’s ok Liam, we will be fine . My voice cracked as i held unto his hand tightly. The oxygen mask dropped in front of me, dangling uselessly as the plane spun. My fingers reached for it instinctively, but the motion felt slow, dreamlike, my mind trapped between adrenaline and disbelief. This couldn’t be real. Not us. Not this way. But life doesn’t negotiate with innocence. The plane jerked again hard, throwing Dad violently across the aisle. I screamed his name, my voice swallowed by the thunderous chaos. Mom reached for him, her hand stretching across the gap, fingertips almost brushing. A deafening roar exploded through the cabin. Fire tore across the ceiling. Luggage rained from the overhead compartments. People were crying, praying, choking, calling out to loved ones as the world turned into a burning, falling coffin. My hands shook as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t thinking, just reacting. Liam screamed for me to sit down, but instinct pushed me toward Mom, toward Dad, toward the family that had always felt invincible, powerful. But I never reached them. A violent force ripped through the cabin an impact so massive it knocked the breath from my lungs. The windows shattered. The world twisted, went weightless, and then slammed downward in a blur of fire and metal. Then..... Silence..... A deep, suffocating silence. I don’t know how long I floated in that dark, endless void. Seconds? Hours? Time dissolved, running like water between my fingers. I woke to cold a very bitter cold. The air smelled of smoke, chemicals, and wet earth. My ears rang with high-pitched static, and my head throbbed painfully. When I opened my eyes, the world was dim and distorted, shadows dancing at the edges of my vision. I was lying on my side in mud. Something heavy pinned my leg twisted metal, I realized slowly. My arms felt numb. A gash ran across my forehead, warm blood dripping into my eye. Panic surged through me. Where am I? Where is everyone? I tried to push myself up, but a sharp agony shot through my ribs, forcing a scream out of my raw throat. “Help…” My voice broke. “Somebody please help me . The night forest around me crackled with small fires, orange embers glowing like dying stars. Pieces of the plane lay scattered everywhere ,shredded metal, seats, broken luggage. Smoke went upward, disappearing into the dark sky, And bodies,God ,Bodies they were all around . Some still strapped into seats. Some unmoving silhouettes in the mud. Some too damaged for my mind to process. My stomach just twisted violently as I tried not to look. Tears blurred my vision. I felt so sick to my stomach that I puked so hard . Mom… Dad… Liam My voice trembled each time I said their names, each one tearing at the slightest hope clinging to my chest. A shadow moved to my right. I turned sharply, wincing at the pain only to realize it wasn’t a person. It was part of the broken fuselage collapsing in on itself. The crash site felt like the aftermath of hell. My breath hitched as I forced myself to listen, really listen for voices, for footsteps, for anything human. But heard Nothing,Only crackling flames and the distant chirping of night insects untouched by tragedy. I swallowed hard and tried again. Louder. “MOM! DAD!” My voice echoed through the trees. No answer. “LIAM !!!!!! I screamed, sobbing. “LIAM" PLEASE!” The forest swallowed my cries. A pressure squeezed my chest so tightly that I thought my ribs would snap. No… no, no… they can’t be gone. They were right next to me. They were right just here. A slight movement caught my eye,something small and fluttering near my feet. I glanced down. It was the gummy bear bag Liam had hidden earlier, torn open, its colorful candies scattered like broken glass. That was when my last shred of denial died. A sound came out of me, not a scream, not a sob, but something raw and animalistic, the kind of sound someone makes when their soul is being ripped apart from the inside. The night swallowed it whole. I lay there for what felt like forever, trapped beneath metal and grief, until exhaustion dragged me back into unconsciousness. But even as I faded, one thought followed me into the darkness: Why am I the only one still breathing?I used to think exhaustion had a limit.Turns out ,it doesn’t.I learned that the first week I started juggling two jobs: the café in the morning and the office-cleaning shift at night. My body felt like it was held together by cheap glue and stubbornness. My feet throbbed, my back ached so much,and sometimes my eyelids fluttered like they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to stay open or give up on life entirely.But college didn’t pay for itself.And life, apparently, enjoyed watching me sweat for every cent.During the day, I served coffees to rude humans who thought “extra hot” meant “throw it at the girl with trauma,” and by night, I swept hallways, emptied trash cans, wiped desks in rooms full of tired fluorescent lights.If someone had told me six months ago that I’d be doing this instead of preparing for university in the UK like Dad wanted… I would’ve laughed them right at their faces.But life changes in the blink of an eye.In a breath, in a scream,In a fire.The office
If someone had told me two months ago that I’d be waking up on a thin mattress in a tiny two-bedroom apartment, listening to Mrs. Sharon’s noisy old kettle whistle like it was dying I would’ve laughed so hard at that person.Or maybe slapped them.Smiles, But here I was.And life wasn’t asking for my permission.I stretched on the small bed, wincing at the ache in my back. Mrs. Sharon’s apartment was warm, cozy, and filled with the scent of cinnamon and laundry detergent. Her two kids Louis and Mara were sweet, and so accommodating always trying to make me laugh, always offering me their snacks as if that alone could fix my reality.But even wrapped in kindness, grief still felt like a brick on my chest.I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft clatter of breakfast dishes in the kitchen. A part of me wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Another part just wanted maybe the piece my father raised to get me out of bed.Survive, Clara.Survive or get swa
Clara didn’t recognize the girl staring back at her in the mirror.Her cheeks were sunken, her lips pale, her usually bright hazel eyes swollen and rimmed with red. She looked like a ghost or just a shadow drifting between grief and exhaustion. It had been only a few days since the funeral and I must say that -wasn’t a funeral without bodies, without closure, without goodbye and her body felt like it had aged ten years.She pulled her robe tighter around herself as she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom she had grown up in. The room felt different now… quieter, colder, hollow. Every photo frame, every trophy, every childhood memory seemed to whisper gone.She didn’t hear the door open until a voice broke through the intense thought in her head.“Good morning, Princess Clara,” Mrs. Sharon said softly.Clara lifted her head. The older woman’s voice had always been warm, teasing even when Clara was small and refused to eat vegetables or sneaked cookies at midnight. Mrs Sh
The cemetery was too quiet for New York. Wind skimmed across the grass in thin, cold ribbons, carrying the scent of autumn and the distant sound of city traffic a reminder that life, real life, continued somewhere far away from the place where Clara Langford stood trembling beneath a gray sky. Three headstones. Three names carved into cold marble. No bodies beneath them,No coffins. Just symbols. Empty symbols meant to represent lives stolen by fire and gravity. Edward Langford. Eleanor Langford. Liam Langford. Her father,Her mother,Her baby brother. The markers were arranged in a perfect line, as if the universe insisted on torturing her with the illusion of order in the midst of chaos. Clara stood before them wrapped in a borrowed black coat, the collar pulled tight around her throat. The fabric was too big, swallowing her slender frame. Her eyes were hollow, shadowed by sleepless nights and the exhaustion of grief that no amount of rest could repair. Snow, Liam’s little
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