Claire Torn Novels & Stories

Because the boy we had raised was gone long before the bullet came. A knock. Then silence. I stood, brushing glass off my shoe. "Come in." The door creaked open. My assistant, pale and shaking, held out a device. "Sir, you should see this." The screen lit up, playing footage of Claire’s newest statement. No tears. No fury. Just calm defiance as she spoke to the world about what had happened. About the lies Liam spun. About how she fought. How she endured. How the world turned a blind eye.

He looked at me and focused his gaze on Claire. “Why does she look like you?” He asked as he stared at me. I noticed the gun still loose in his hand, as if weighing which one of us to shoot first. What do you expect I say? Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!! Claire looked wrecked. Her clothes were torn. She had bruises. She looked like she hadn't bathed in weeks. Tobin didn't know I had a twin sister, Tobin didn't know he had been played all this while, and that Tobin would end my life right now.

Leo finally replied. “Agreed,” Arsen answered firmly. "Ahem… so here’s the thing. Actually, Claire is a college student who moved here a year ago from… umm… I heard it was Canada. Or was it Florida? I don’t know. But at first, everything was fine. Until one day, someone tried to harm Claire—you know, rape her. But unfortunately, the man failed—I don’t know who saved her. Then a few days later, the man who tried to rape Claire was found dead. An eyewitness saw that the one who killed him was a girl who looked like Claire, but she appeared more beautiful and cruel, dressed all in black.” Leo paused his story and took a sip of his nearly empty bourbon.

Claire was ready to spin her spear as she flew forward swiftly into the dragon's mouth. Claire then saw an increasingly faint gap in the center of the flames that were coming out of the dragon's mouth. Greenish gaps that are starting to fade. Claire quickly penetrated into the gap and at once she was back into the algorithms room. "Leon!" exclaimed Claire when she was back in. In the algorithms room, Claire is back to herself just as she was when she first came in here. Now she could not see the floating pictures anymore, but the floating numbers, because she didn't wear Leon's special glasses. Claire looked everywhere but couldn't find Leon.

Gena urged. "That jerk said it's over, can you believe it?" Claire lamented, tears brimming in her eyes. "He really enjoys messing with me, Gena! How could he do this when the whole Doris story is over now? And I'm at his house going nuts while he's away with her." "Oh, sweetie, and you're going to let him mess with you? I thought you were bolder than that," Gena replied after a short silence. "And what am I supposed to do, huh? Go on and beg him to continue harassing me?" Claire was still striding around, a fist on her waist.

Claire said, placing a kiss on her cheek, Tina who has been feeling sad, tossed her back on the couch before plopping on it, crying. Claire's gaze shifted from her to me, “what happened to her” Claire asked. I smiled, running my hand into my hair, and I turned to face Claire. “Little miss got her heart broken, I told her it okay to feel rejected or hurt” I trailed in Claire's brow arched as she stared at me. “It's okay to hurt” she repeated, before shaking her head as she walked toward where Tina was. “Hey baby girl, it's Mommy”

Claire said smoothly, "I don’t take orders from anyone. Not her, not Liam, not Adrian Blackwood." Adrian let out a low chuckle beside her. The media went wild. And just like that, Claire rewrote the narrative. She wasn’t a victim. She wasn’t a pawn. She was the one pulling the strings. And God help anyone who tried to stop her.

Irene growled. "Such a shameless slut." A trainee worker spat out. "You have some nerve. Look at Irene, so classy and beautiful, and you think Jeff will leave her for someone like you?" "Guards, get this thing out of my sight." Irene yelled and two guards came into sight. "There's no need. I'm leaving." Claire swallowed, her heart shattered from pain and embarrassment. "Then go, because Jeff doesn't give a damn about you." Claire had run outside sobbing and her vision had been so blurred with tears she hadn't seen the old man until she'd crashed into him.

He had told her it reminded him of her—strong, and always there even in the darkest nights. She felt her eyes sting with tears but blinked them away quickly. She was not going to cry and ruin her makeup, not today. Because Zora had gone through a lot of trials with Trent. A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. "Come in," she called out softly. The door opened, and Claire stepped inside. The moment she saw Zora, she froze, her eyes going wide. "Oh my goddess," Claire whispered, pressing a hand to her chest. "Zora, you look absolutely stunning."

“Thank you, Julia. I appreciate it.” As Julia closed the door, Claire let out a deep breath. She knew she couldn’t keep this to herself. She needed guidance, someone to help her navigate this complicated situation. Picking up her phone, she dialed the number of a trusted colleague, Dr. Ellie Marshall, a senior psychiatrist she respected immensely. “Ellie, it’s Claire,” she said when Ellie answered. “I need to talk to you about something… It’s urgent.” Later that evening, Claire met with Dr. Ellie Marshall at a quiet café. She recounted everything—Aiden’s confession, the photographs, and her own conflicting emotions.