Clara’s POVHis hand rested on the frame for balance, his eyes steady on me in a way that made unease crawl under my skin. I wasn’t even shocked at the fact that he was now able to walk. My concern was how long he stood there. Did he hear everything I said to the doctor? He took a few steps forward. Calculated and gentle, normal for someone who probably had gotten back their ability to work. He stopped in front of me, his expression unreadable. “What are you getting rid of?”He repeated again, like i didn’t hear him the first time. My composure was hanging by a thread. One wrong move, and I’d burst.“Just some old clothes,” I said, forcing the words out smooth, even though my pulse was doing something frantic beneath my ribs. “I’ve been meaning to donate them. I was on with a donation center about pickup times.”He studied me. He didn’t blink. It was the kind of look that made you feel like every lie you’d ever told was suddenly visible on your face. He placed a hand over m
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