7.

July 22

Tuesday

Claire's Pov

As the first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, I stirred from my sleep, the events of the previous day still weighing heavily on my mind.

With a sigh, I pushed aside my thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Today was Valerie's viewing, and we needed to pay our respects before the funeral tomorrow. Despite the strained relationship I had with our aunt, I couldn't deny the sense of loss that weighed upon me.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and made my way downstairs, where I found Sanchez sitting in the living room, a somber expression on his face. He glanced up as I entered, his eyes betraying a hint of exhaustion.

"Good morning, Claire," he greeted me, his voice tinged with weariness.

"Morning, Dad," I replied, forcing a smile as I took a seat opposite him. "Is Chelsea awake yet?" I shook my head. "Not yet. She had a rough night," I explained, my gaze distant as i stared off into the distance.

I nodded in understanding, knowing that Chelsea had been struggling to come to terms with Valerie's passing. "I'll go wake her," I offered, rising from my seat and making my way back upstairs.

As I entered Chelsea's room, I found her still asleep, her face peaceful in repose. Gently, I shook her shoulder, whispering her name until she stirred awake.

"Morning, sleepyhead," I greeted her, offering her a warm smile.

Chelsea blinked groggily, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in bed. "Morning, Claire. What time is it?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

"It's time to get ready for Valerie's viewing," I reminded her, my tone gentle but firm.

Chelsea's expression clouded with sadness as the reality of the day ahead sunk in. "Right," she murmured, nodding in understanding. "Let's go."

Together, we made our way downstairs, where Sanchez was waiting for us, his demeanor solemn as he prepared to accompany us to the funeral home. As we stepped outside into the cool morning air, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of my stomach.

As we approached the car, Chelsea paused, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Where's Carlos?" she asked, her gaze scanning the driveway for any sign of our family's longtime bodyguard.

Sanchez frowned, his expression darkening slightly. "He didn't feel well," he replied curtly, his tone brusque.

Something about his response didn't sit right with me, and I exchanged a worried glance with Chelsea. "Are you sure he's okay, Dad?" I pressed, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to Carlos's absence than met the eye.

Sanchez's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a steely resolve. "He's fine, Claire. Now let's go. We don't want to be late for Valerie's viewing," he insisted, ushering us into the car with a sense of urgency.

~~~~

As we drove to the funeral home, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled over me like a heavy blanket. Something was off, and I couldn't help but fear the worst for Carlos. Whether Sanchez was involved or not, I knew that we were walking into a dangerous situation, one that could have dire consequences for us all.

As we sat at a stoplight, lost in our own thoughts, I was jolted out of my reverie by the sudden appearance of Dmitri on his motorcycle. My eyes widened in surprise as I did a double take, unable to believe what I was seeing. Dmitri nodded in my direction before revving his engine and speeding off into the distance, leaving me stunned in his wake.

I glanced around anxiously, half expecting Sanchez to have noticed Dmitri's presence, but to my relief, he seemed preoccupied with the traffic ahead. However, Chelsea's delighted squeal brought my attention back to her, and I turned to see her beaming with excitement.

"Did you see that, Claire? That was the guy that gave you a lift last night!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration.

I forced a smile, my stomach churning with unease. "Yeah, I saw him," I replied nonchalantly, though my mind raced with the implications of Dmitri's unexpected appearance.

Chelsea's smile widened, oblivious to the internal turmoil I was experiencing. "is he cute under the helmet?" she gushed, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

I swallowed hard, knowing that I needed to tread carefully. Dmitri may have been charming and handsome, but he was also our biological father's right-hand man, and I knew that any romantic involvement between them would be strictly forbidden.

"Yeah, he's okay, I guess," I replied evasively, hoping to quell Chelsea's enthusiasm without Sanchez realizing.

Thankfully, Sanchez remained focused on the road ahead, sparing me from any further interrogation. But as we pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. Dmitri's presence had thrown me off balance, stirring up emotions and desires that I had long tried to suppress.

As we stepped out of the car and made our way inside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation about what the day would bring. Valerie's viewing would be difficult enough without the added complication of Dmitri's unexpected appearance.

As we entered the funeral home, the somber atmosphere washed over me like a wave, and I felt a pang of sadness at the sight of Valerie's casket surrounded by flowers. Chelsea's hand slipped into mine, offering a silent gesture of comfort as we approached the casket together.

Valerie looked peaceful in death, her face serene as if she were merely sleeping. I couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for the strained relationship we had shared, wishing that I had reached out to her before it was too late.

As we stood in silence, paying our respects to our fallen aunt, I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavy on my heart. I had kept so many secrets from Valerie, knowing that she would never approve of the choices I had made. But as I looked down at her lifeless form, I vowed to honor her memory by uncovering the truth and seeking justice for her untimely demise.

With a heavy heart, I said a silent prayer for Valerie's soul, hoping that she had found peace in death. And as we turned to leave the funeral home, I knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty. But no matter what obstacles lay in our path, I would do whatever it took to protect Chelsea and uncover the truth about our family's dark secrets.

Chelsea's Pov

As we settled into our seats at Brooklyn Tree, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing Daniel. He greeted us with his usual warm smile, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Claire. But just as I was about to bask in the moment, our dad's sharp remark shattered the illusion.

"Daniel, are you going to take our order or flirt with Claire all day?" He quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I cringed at his words, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me. Daniel's smile faltered slightly, and he quickly apologized before taking our orders and retreating to the kitchen.

Claire shot dad a dirty look, her eyes flashing with anger. "Dad, why do you always have to ruin everything?" she snapped, her voice laced with frustration.

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by her outburst. "What's your problem, Claire?" he asked, his tone laced with irritation.

Claire bristled at his question, her defenses rising in full force. "My problem is that you can't seem to show a shred of decency or respect for anyone, especially Daniel," she retorted, her voice trembling with emotion.

He scoffed, his expression turning cold. "I don't need to be lectured by you, Claire," he replied dismissively, his tone dripping with disdain.

But Claire wasn't about to back down, her determination shining in her eyes. "Maybe not, but someone needs to set you straight," she shot back, her voice unwavering.

I watched in silence, torn between wanting to defend Claire and fearing the repercussions of standing up to dad. But as I looked at my sister, standing tall and unyielding in the face of adversity, I knew that I couldn't stay silent any longer.

"You know what, Dad? Claire's right," I interjected, my voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in my chest. "You're always picking fights and making everyone miserable. It's not fair to any of us."

His eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Daniel returned with our food, effectively diffusing the tension in the air. We ate in silence, the atmosphere tense and strained, but I couldn't shake the feeling of satisfaction knowing that I had spoken up for Claire and myself.

As we finished our meal and prepared to leave, dad turned to Claire, his expression icy. "We'll talk about this later," he warned, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But Claire merely squared her shoulders, her resolve unwavering. "Fine," she replied defiantly, her gaze meeting his head-on. "I'll be waiting."

Sanchez's Pov

As we returned home, the tension between us hung thick in the air like a suffocating fog. I could feel the resentment simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. And as soon as we stepped through the front door, it erupted into a full-blown argument.

I wasted no time in confronting them for their disrespectful behavior at lunch, my anger bubbling to the surface like molten lava. Chelsea apologized, her voice trembling with emotion, and I begrudgingly accepted it, though I knew the rift between us ran deep.

But Claire, ever defiant, refused to back down, her words cutting like a knife through the air. "You don't deserve an apology from either of us," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain

Chelsea's tears fell freely as she begged Claire to stop, the pain evident in her eyes. "Claire, please," she pleaded, her voice choked with emotion.

But Claire remained steadfast, her resolve unyielding. "No, Chelsea," she replied, her tone resolute. "He needs to hear the truth."

I braced myself for her next words, knowing all too well the wounds she would reopen with her accusations. But before she could speak, she hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features.

"You don't get to play the victim, dad," she continued, her voice trembling with anger. "You may have raised us, but you were never a father to us. All you ever did was manipulate and control us, and I'm done playing your games."

My heart clenched at her words, knowing that there was truth to her accusations. But before I could respond, she dropped a bombshell that left me reeling.

"I'm moving in with Daniel," she declared, her voice unwavering. "And Chelsea is coming with me."

The shock of her announcement left me speechless, my mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions. I knew why she was doing this, knew that she was trying to escape the suffocating hold I had on her life. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"You can't do this, Claire," I protested, my voice tinged with desperation. "You're making a mistake."

But she merely scoffed at my words, her expression filled with defiance. "It's not a mistake, dad," she shot back, her eyes blazing with determination. "It's the only way we can finally be free."

I wanted to argue, to plead with her to reconsider, but deep down, I knew that it was futile. Claire had made up her mind, and nothing I said could change that.

As she stormed out of the room, Chelsea trailing behind her, I was left alone with my thoughts, grappling with the bitter reality of what had just transpired. And as the weight of their words settled over me like a suffocating blanket, I couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss.

But amidst the pain and heartache, one thought burned bright like a beacon in the darkness: I would do whatever it took to bring my daughters back home, where they belonged. And if that meant confronting Daniel and exposing his true intentions, then so be it. No one would come between me and my family, not now, not ever.

Daniel's Pov

As I stepped out of Brooklyn Tree after my shift, my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Claire and Chelsea. I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me since they left earlier, especially after the tense encounter with Sanchez. I knew something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was.

As I made my way to my car, I spotted Claire and Chelsea approaching, each carrying a suitcase and tears streaming down their faces. My heart clenched at the sight of them, and I rushed to their side, concern etched on my face.

"What happened? Are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with worry as I pulled them into a tight embrace.

Claire sniffled, her voice trembling as she recounted the events that had transpired since they left Brooklyn Tree. My blood boiled with rage as I listened to the way Sanchez had treated them, his words cutting like a knife through their already wounded hearts.

When Claire mentioned that they were moving in with me, I couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me. Despite the complications that would undoubtedly arise from our newfound living arrangement, I knew that I would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

As we get onto my car, I whispered to Claire, making sure Chelsea couldn't hear. "We need to talk about some personal stuff," I murmured, my voice low and urgent.

Claire nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with determination. "I know," she replied softly, her grip on my hand tightening.