The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 43

Annelise looked straight into Clarissa's eyes, her words slow and deliberate.

"You're still so young. You really shouldn't spend the rest of your life as a grieving widow just for Elias."

The moment the words landed, Clarissa's body stiffened for a split second.

Her gaze flickered violently.

It was the panic of someone whose agenda had been seen through, mixed with the wariness of feeling offended.

But she covered it up flawlessly; in the blink of an eye, she had reassumed her tragic, mournful expression.

She shook her head vigorously and pulled her hand back, as if she had just heard something deeply sacrilegious.

"No."

Her voice carried a trace of indignant resolve.

"In this lifetime, my heart will only ever belong to Elias. There will never be anyone else."

She paused, then added a follow-up, as if both explaining and highlighting her own nobility.

"Besides, Mom still needs me to take care of her. If I leave, what will happen to her?"

Annelise didn't say another word, simply watching her in silence.

She noticed that when Clarissa uttered the phrase 'only ever belong to Elias,' the corners of her mouth twitched into an incredibly subtle, upward curve.

That wasn't grief.

That was an irrepressible sense of smugness and satisfaction at her own acting and deceit.

That night, Annelise lay in bed, her eyes wide open, replaying the day's events in her mind over and over.

Hackett's insurance policy.

The keys in Clarissa's hand.

The manila envelope taken from Barnum's study.

And Clarissa's watertight facade of utter devotion.

What exactly was in that envelope?

What could possibly be worth risking so much to steal from Barnum Lehman's private study?

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