The tension in the hospital corridor is thick enough to cut with a knife. Clara's words hang in the air like poison, and I can see Chloe's confusion growing by the second.
"Clara," I say quietly, my voice carrying a warning edge. "You're upset."
"Upset?" Clara laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Why would I be upset? Just because my fake boyfriend is playing house with another woman while I'm losing everything?"
Chloe's eyes widen. "Fake boyfriend?"
I step closer to Clara, lowering my voice. "We need to talk. Privately."
"Oh, now you want privacy?" Clara's voice rises. "When it's convenient for you?"
"Clara." The single word carries enough authority to make her step back. "Not here. Not now."
She stares at me for a moment, and I see the real pain behind her anger. The proud heiress is cracking under the weight of losing everything she's ever known.
"Fine," she says finally. "But we are going to talk."
