Clara Afton Real Life Novels & Stories

It was Clara who broke it open in the end. My sixteen year old daughter had received a message online from a girl who claimed to be Alfred’s daughter. I had taken the account name Clara showed me and I had found them myself, driving to an address in a part of the city I didn’t know, knocking on a door that opened to reveal a woman named Harper Piers and a girl about Clara’s age with Alfred’s jaw and Alfred’s eyes and thirteen years of secrets sitting in the living room between us. Harper had not wanted to talk at first. Her mother had tried to close the door on me. But I had stood on that doorstep and told her I was not leaving and eventually she had let me in and sat across from me in her s

Alex asked, trying to turn his head, but Clara quickly dragged him into an alley as she watched Stefan enter the cafe, her eyes widening with every step he took. "I thought Allison said he couldn’t walk for the meantime because of the accident," she murmured again, and Alex came out of the alley. By then, Stefan had already entered the cafe. "Why's your reaction suddenly looking like you just saw a ghost?" he asked. "I need to be somewhere," she said, her eyes still filled with shock. "Where are you going? Who did you see, Clara?" Alex demanded, but Clara ignored his question and quickly flagged a cab, heading to Allison’s clothing line.

You won't escape from me again,’ he draws out another gun and starts shooting, but she was too far, and couldn't get an aim on her. Clara was climbing over one of the fences when she saw the headlights of an oncoming car. It was her chance to get out of there. She almost gets run over as she flags the car down, but then a thought sneaks into her mind, ‘What if it's one of them?’ Then it’s too late for her, anyway. ‘Carmen! Carmen!... Clara! Get in!’ It was her uncle, Nicholas Jacobs, the conniving bastard who sold her out to the criminals.

I pressed my back against it, trembling. Adrian had tried to kill Clara. He was keeping her sedated. He was going to let her die. I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed Ivan. He answered on the second ring. “Mrs. Moretti. It’s late.” “I need your help.” My voice cracked. “Please. It’s Clara—my foster mother. Adrian ran her off the road months ago because she caught him with Celeste. Now he’s paying her doctor to keep her in a coma. She’s showing signs of waking up, and he’s—he’s going to let her die.”