Chapter 15: The Fugitive's Path

The woods behind the gallery were thick and dark. The ground was soft from the storm, and every step Clara took made a wet, crushing sound. She had no map, no car. Only a heavy backpack and a heart full of rage. She pushed her way through the wet branches, ignoring the way the cold water soaked her jeans. She had to move fast—she knew Elias would come back. He always came back when he thought he was in control.

She walked for an hour, following a small trail that