Claire Harry came home one evening, only to be met with the greatest shock of her life.
Her father, Richard Harry, was slumped against the living room couch, half-conscious, his shirt stained with blood. He coughed violently, crimson trickling from his lips. His weak gaze met hers, filled with regret.
"Carrie… I hope… you can forgive me, my dear."
Claire's heart clenched. She had never been particularly close to her father, but at this moment, none of that mattered. He was still her father.
"Dad? DAD!" she cried, rushing toward him. "What's wrong? What happened to you?"
Richard coughed again, his body shuddering. "Claire… listen to me. My time… is running out."
"No! No, don't say that!" Claire sobbed, pressing her hands against his chest as if she could hold him together. "MOM! Someone, HELP!"
He was tightly holding a necklace that had a unique locket-it was a key.
"Take this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You'll… find out more about Mother..." he coughed a little.
Claire hesitated, staring at the mysterious key. Her father never carried anything like this. He was always predictable, always with the same set of belongings. What was this? Why give it to her now?
Before she could question him, Richard coughed violently again, his breathing becoming more ragged.
"I'm sorry… I can't protect you anymore," he rasped.
The front door banged open.
"Claire, what's going on?"
Her brother, Brad, rushed in, his face pale as he took in the sight of their father—barely conscious, blood pooling beneath him.
"Dad, Dad!" Brad shouted. "Stay with us!"
Claire clutched the key tightly, looking at her father with desperation.
"Protect me from what, Dad?" she demanded. "What are you talking about?"
Richard's glazed eyes flickered with pain. "After your mother passed… I had no choice but to—" His voice trailed off, swallowed by darkness.
"Dad?" Claire shook him. "DAD!"
But Richard Harry was gone.
***
The Harry family had finished mourning their father. Life resumed, at least on the surface.
Olivia, her mother, went back to work. Brad returned to school. Claire, having recently graduated, took on her role in the family business. Cecelia, their youngest sister, was in her final year of high school.
But nothing was the same.
Claire had barely begun to process the grief when her phone buzzed with a familiar number.
"Miss Claire?"
"Yes."
She already knew what was coming next.
"Young Master Brad is at the—"
Claire: "Stay put. I'll be there."
It was happening again.
Brad was either drunk, beaten up, or both. Every time, his bodyguard called her to come rescue him.
By the time she arrived at the Royal Prestige Bar, she found her brother exactly as expected—completely wasted. He refused to let anyone near him, swaying unsteadily in his seat.
Claire strode up to him, smacked him lightly on the back of the head, and gestured for the bodyguards to lift him.
"Sis, you came again," Brad slurred, blinking at her. "Why won't you let me have fun?"
"This isn't fun, Brad," Claire snapped, exasperated. "You're not a nobody. People shouldn't see you like this, or they'll…"
"...think the Harry family doesn't train their children to be responsible," Brad interrupted, mimicking her voice with a tired smirk. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
He was used to hearing that line so much that even his friends teased him with it.
Sighing, Claire helped him into the car.
"Take him home," she instructed the driver. "I'll follow behind."
But when she arrived home, she was met with something she hadn't expected.
Olivia was furious.
The moment Claire stepped inside, Olivia stormed toward her, her face twisted with rage.
"What happened to my son, Claire?" she demanded. "What did you do to Brad? Why did he have an accident right after you left him?"
Claire froze. "What?"
"Mom, I…what happened to Brad? I left him with the bodyguard, and…"
"Lies!" Olivia spat. "I'm warning you, Claire. Stay away from my children. Stay away from Brad!"
Claire stared at her, stunned.
"But… Mom…"
"I am not your mother!" Olivia's voice was sharp, like a dagger to the heart.
Claire's breath caught.
"I don't want to die like your mother died before, and I don't want my children to die the way you killed your father!"
Claire's blood ran cold.
Her father's dying words came flooding back.
"You'll find out more about Mother…"
It was true.
Her mother was dead. Her real mother.
That explained the strange feeling she had growing up with Olivia, why she never felt like she truly belonged. Why does Olivia always treat her differently?
Claire's vision blurred with tears, her body trembling.
"Mom…" she whispered brokenly.
But Olivia was already gone.
The room spun. Claire's knees buckled, and then…
Darkness.
When Claire opened her eyes again, it was already 10 PM.
The house was silent. Empty.
Claire staggered to her feet, grabbed her car keys, and left without a word.
She drove aimlessly, her mind replaying Olivia's accusations, her father's cryptic last words, and the key burning in her pocket.
She ended up at Royal Prestige Hotel & Bar, the same place she had picked Grady up earlier.
Taking a seat in the dimly lit lounge, she grabbed a bottle of beer, barely noticing the other patrons.
But then,
A cold chill ran down her spine.