Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Dylan stared down at the little box in his hand, then set it gently on the side table.

Tara got up and opened one of them. "You know, these are all the things you used to say to comfort me back in school. After my parents died, I was a mess. You promised you'd always be there for me."

When Tara lost her parents as a teenager, she was sent to live at the Warrens' main house. She was so smart that Mrs. Ferguson noticed her right away.

That's why learning all the family's rules and rituals actually made her happy-it gave her something to hold onto. At least her life had some direction.

All those words Dylan wrote? He did it just to make her smile. He was always kind to everyone, but he'd always been especially gentle with her, his sad little sister.

Tara took a deep breath, not wanting to read another word from those notes. "You know what, forget it. When people started gossiping about you and Shelly, I told myself you only wrote these because you're just that nice-you can't stand to see anyone sad. When we grew up and you had other options, I respected that. It took me forever to convince myself. Dylan, I don't care about your illness. Both our families are behind us. Why do you have to keep getting tangled up with Clara?”

Before she could finish, Dylan glanced up at her, his gaze steady. "You're doing great at that research institute overseas. You love architecture. I could help get you into the top academies."

Tara's face went cold, her grip tightening on the box. "What's that supposed to mean?"noveldrama

"My illness... Only Clara can help. If she won't, then I'll just let myself die."

Tara let out a short, bitter laugh, her hands nearly crushing the box. Something sharp flashed in her eyes as she forced a smile. "Let's go downstairs. The guests are waiting."

She would never fall apart or lash out like some women. If she wanted something, she'd fight for it. Losing her temper would just make her look weak.

Dylan glanced at the boxes again, his expression softening. "The Dylan you knew just wanted you to be your best self."

Tara stayed silent. The Dylan she remembered had always been gentle, never angry, calm as spring water.

The moon in the sky is beautiful, but out of reach. Still, someone always tries to reach it.

She thought if she waited patiently, her turn would come. But some other woman, one she never even saw as competition, had gotten there first just by being close.

If she'd known, she never would've

left the thought if she

just became better, she'd finally be noticed.

Turns out, you have to fight for what you want.

Her lips pressed into a thin, cold line as she watched Dylan leave.

Only after she was sure she was alone did she call Simon.

Simon was parked at a distance, having followed Ryan here and figured out where this little cottage was. If he was right, this was where Clara's so-called mysterious boyfriend lived.

What a dump, Simon thought. Pathetic.

A wild look flashed in his eyes as he spoke O the phone. "Help me th

into

time, and don't worry-even if 1.0

me, I'll never say your name.

kills

Tara tapped her fingers against the boxes, a slow smile curling her lips.

Only Clara can help him? As if.

She could be the cure he needed, too.

"Simon, I'll do everything I can to help you. As long as you make sure Clara and Dylan are finished for good."

Last time, Simon had risked everything just to set up that attack.

Trying again seemed impossible, and going against Dylan was like throwing pebbles at a mountain.

But now that Tara was on his side, things were different.

He finally had enough to make it work.