Chapter 112: Clara's Fingertips Lightly Traced the Delicate Seashell Brooch

Clara's fingertips lightly traced the delicate seashell brooch. Sunlight streamed through the shop window, casting fragmented glimmers across its surface.

"Wrap it up, please." She offered the shopkeeper a faint smile.

The shopkeeper efficiently packaged the item, slipping a postcard inside. "Writing down your troubles might help ease your mind."

Clara accepted the bag, her fingers brushing the postcard's edge briefly before she remained silent.

Back at the hotel, she carelessly placed the gift bag on her nightstand. Emerging from her shower, she found Harbor Cay-themed postcard lying quietly on the desk.

After several seconds of staring, she turned and tossed it into a drawer.

* * *

Morning sunlight flooded the restaurant.

Connor Hayes scanned the room for the third time before his gaze settled on Sloane Bennett dining alone.

"Looking for someone, Mr. Hayes?" Sloane speared a piece of fruit with her fork, her smile laced with implication.

Connor sat directly across from her.

"Morning." His eyes flicked to her drink. "The milk looks good."

"This is soy milk." Sloane shook her glass. "Can't even tell the difference?"

Connor remained impassive. "Where's Clara?"

"So concerned about my best friend?" Sloane set down her fork. "Did your investment bank hit this year's targets already?"

Connor chuckled. "Never too busy to see someone special."

Sloane suddenly turned serious. "I thought you and Grant were brothers."

"Not anymore."

"Because of Clara?"

His silence spoke volumes.

Sloane burst into laughter. "Grant Holloway finally gets his comeuppance!"

Connor arched an eyebrow.

"Fine then." Sloane dabbed her lips. "Good luck."

"Where is she?"

Sloane checked her watch. "At this hour..." She drew out the words. "She should be at the airport."

Connor shot to his feet.

Watching his hurried departure, Sloane recalled Clara's words from last night: "If I can't escape, then I'll simply change locations."