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KLAUS

O n the night of the car accident, there were two people in the car. One of them was my skeevy brother-in-law, Richard. The other was Clara Mason, his mistress.

When the car erupted in flames, Richard escaped in the nick of time and saved his own ass.

He left his mistress behind.

By the time I arrived at the scene of the wreckage, it was almost too late.

Clara had third-degree burns all over her body. She nearly lost her life that night. I saw to it that shereceived medical treatment, but it was still a miracle that she survived.

The girl was a fighter.

She still is.

I kept her alive out of necessity.

I spent tens of thousands of dollars on Clara’s medical expenses and reconstructive surgery. And when she was discharged from the hospital, I let her live under my roof.It wasn’t out of the goodness of my heart, but because the girl might have known something about Sera or Richard.

“Klaus?” Emma asks, clutching my shirt.

“Emma, this is Clara,” I say, gesturing toward the woman. “I believe the two of you have already met.”

“Who is she?” Emma asks cautiously.

I take a deep breath and tell her everything. As I speak, Clara descends the staircase and stops a few feet away from us.

“You were Richard’s mistress?” Emma asks her when I finish speaking.

The girl shakes her head.

“She didn’t know it at the time,” I explain on Clara’s behalf. “She didn’t know that he was already married until after the accident. She was pursuing her master’s degree in clinical psychology when she met Richard at a bar. Her only mistake was falling for the wrong man.”

“Did you lose your voice because of your injuries?” Emma asks, her eyes wide.

Clara shakes her head.

“Her vocal cords were damaged, but she can speak,” I say. “She just chooses not to.”

“You saved our lives yesterday, Clara,” Emma says, looking at the girl. “If you hadn’t warned us, we never would’ve escaped in time. Thank you.”

Clara gives her a small nod.

The two girls stare at each other for another beat.

“A part of me thought I dreamed you up,” Emma says. “Why were you wearing a wedding dress?”

Clara lifts a shoulder.

“It’s one of her hobbies,” I explain. “She likes designing and making clothes in her free time. She always wears the strangest outfits.”

Clara puts her hands on her hips.

I clear my throat. “Coolest outfits, I mean.”

“Do the kids know about you?” Emma asks her.

Clara looks at me.

Once again, I answer on her behalf. “Rosalie saw her once. She refused to leave her bedroom for a week because she thought the house was haunted. I didn’t know how to explain the reason Clara was living with us, so we didn’t speak about it.”

“And when James saw her, you gave him the potion,” Emma says. “It was to help him forget that he ever even saw her.”

“I had no choice,” I say. “It wasn’t like I could tell him the truth.”

“Is that why I had a curfew at night?” Emma asks. “Because I might bump into Clara?”

“She didn’t like being locked inside her room,” I say. “She slept for most of the day, but she liked to read and work on her projects at night. And when she got bored, she liked to roam the halls of the mansion. So we let her.”

“Everyone else knew about her apart from me?” Emma asks.

“Helena knew, of course,” I say. “And so did the night security team.”

Emma stares at me.

I can read the thoughts in her head.

From the beginning, Emma knew something was off about Sinclair mansion. She knew something was going on, but couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.

Clara was the secret everyone was guarding.

“I wanted to tell you,” I say. “I just didn’t know where to begin.”

“I understand. It’s a sensitive topic,” she says. And then she turns to Clara. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Clara. I can’t imagine how isolating it must have been for you.”

Clara looks at her for a moment before walking away. I don’t ask her where she’s going. I already know.

I turn my attention to Emma and wrap my arm around her waist.

“Thank you,” I say, leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder.

“For what?” She looks up at me.

“For just being you. For having so much love in your heart for everyone.”

She stares at me like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. She doesn’t know that her beautiful heart makes her shine like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm.

“It was kind of you to help her, Klaus,” she says, swallowing. “She was a stranger to you, but you still went above and beyond for her.”

“My reasons were selfish,” I say.

“You’re a kind man, Klaus,” she says. “You’re a good man. It must have all been so heavy for you too, but you showed grace and strength.”

I pull her close, holding her against my chest.

“Nothing feels heavy anymore, angel,” I say.

Not since she walked into my life.