Chapter 3 Ties That Bind

Elena woke up in a cold hospital room, light flickering above her. Her body hurt, her head hurt a lot, and her memory of the attack was foggy. But one image returned with very scary clearness Clara.

Paul sat at her bedside, face pale, eyes sunken. He hadn't left since she was brought in. The doctors said she'd passed out from the shock and a blow to the head. Nothing was stolen. No arrests were made. And Clara had disappeared, again.

"Elena," Paul whispered, gripping her hand. "I'm so sorry ."

She didn't speak. Her throat was dry, but more than that, her heart was heavy. Not just from the physical pain but from the storm Clara's reappearance had freed. What did she want? Why now?

Back at home, Elena was given strict orders to rest, butrest was impossible. The children were quiet, sensing something was wrong. Steven clung to her more than usual . Rose and Lily helped around the house. But the air was tense watchful. Something hidden floated over them, pressing down like heavy cloud .

Elena spent her nights listening every creak of the floorboards, every rustle outside the window. Her nerves ragged-edged, her hands shook. Paul tried to calm her, but she could see it in his eyes: he was scared too.

That same week, a thick envelopes arrived at their door. No return address. Inside were photos.

Paul holding a newborn baby.

Clara is at a hospital.

Paul's signature on a document.

Elena froze. Her hands went numb.

"Paul," she called, voice tight. "Come here. Now."

He looked at the photos and didn't speak for a long time. Then finally--"This isn't what it looks like."

She didn't blink. "Then tell me what it is."

He waited. "Clara... had another child. After we separated. She told me it wasn't mine. I never saw the baby. I didn't even know this existed."

Elena's voice dropped to a whisper. "But you signed something ."

Paul sank into a chair. "I thought I was signing a relating to which divorced parent will care for a child, I didn't think it meant anything. I swear ."

But Elena didn't know what to believe.

That night she couldn't sleep. She was too much inside her own head. Clara was playing the long game. But for what? Revenge? Jealousy? Or something more suicidal?

She returned to the envelope. There was one more item he hadn't seen.

A small folded note is tucked behind the last photo.

"You took what was mine. Now I'll take what's yours. --C"

Elena's blood ran cold.

That night Steven woke up screaming in his sleep. She ran to his room with her heart racing.

"Mommy, someone is in the house" he said with big eyes.

Elena went through every room, searching for anything unusual. Nothing. No broken locks. No footprints. Yet, like a weed, the fear had settled in.

The next day, Paul installed new locks. Cameras. Movement lights. But fear still clung to the walls.

Meanwhile, Clara's name turned up nowhere. The police said there was no trace. No recent address, no ID activity. Clara had gone back underground--but Elena felt her, like a shadow that moved just out of sight.

Then came the voicemail.

An unknown number. One message.

Paul hit play.

"I told you. You thought burying the truth would protect her. But lies rot from the inside. Tick tock."

Elena stepped into the room just as the message ended.

She stared at Paul. "What haven't you told me?"

He didn't answer. His jaw squeezed tightly, his hands shaking with fear or emotion.

But then came a knock at the door. A uniformed person stood there, holding a single manila envelope.

"For Mrs. Elena Dawson."

She took it, hands shaking with fear or emotion.

Inside: a birth certificate. A girl. Born six years ago. Mother: Clara. Father: Paul Dawson.

And scribbled in red ink across the bottom:

"She's coming home. Whether you like it or not."

Elena stared at Paul, heart pounding. "You have another daughter?"

Paul stepped back, shocked.

That evening, the children sat around the dinner table, picking at their food. Steven was unusually quiet, his eyes quickly moving toward the window every few minutes.

"Mom," he finally said, "I think someone was in the backyard ."

Paul rushed outside, flashlight in hand. Nothing but the wind.

Elena didn't sleep that night. She sat in the dark livingroom, holding in hand the baby monitor, staring at the front door .

And then--3:11 a.m.

The door creaked open.

Paul rushed downstairs. Elena followed the heart in her throat.

And standing in the doorway--

Was Clara. Holding a little girl.

And a gun.

The girl had big eyes. Confused. Afraid. Her hands clung to Clara's jacket.

Elena deeply stepped in front of Steven.

Paul raised his hands slowly. "Clara... you don't want to do this."

Clara's voice was icy. "Oh, I do. You took everything from me. My life, my name. You replaced me with her."

Her eyes flicked to Elena.

"And now, I'm taking it back."

The girl beside her shook with fear or emotion. Elena's heart broke.

"This isn't the way," Elena said softly. "She's a child. Shedoesn't deserve this."

Clara's face cracked, pain flashing through. But then her grip on the gun tightened.

"I'm not here for her," Clara whispered.

She looked straight at Elena.

"I'm here for you."