Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 30 - Claire

The first few weeks after Claire's escape were a blur of safe houses, sleepless nights, and constant vigilance. Every sound in the night made her flinch; every shadow seemed like a threat. She barely spoke, rarely ate, and spent most of her time either pacing anxiously or staring into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Aiden and Paul kept a careful distance, watching her with a mixture of worry and patience, allowing her the space she needed, but always close enough to step in if she needed them.

One night, they were holed up in a tiny, dimly lit safe house on the outskirts of Montreal. The silence between them was thick as they prepared their meager dinner—a couple of cans of soup and stale crackers. Claire sat in the corner, clutching a small, worn photo of her brother, Callum, the edges frayed from her constant handling. She barely looked up as Aiden placed a bowl in front of her, his movements gentle, almost hesitant.

"You should eat," he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. "You haven't had much today."

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the photo, her fingers tracing Callum's face. The worry and fear for her brother gnawed at her, a constant ache that she couldn't shake. She'd barely spoken to Aiden or Paul since they'd taken her in, and though she knew they were trying to help, the walls she'd built around herself were unyielding.The first few weeks after Claire's escape were a blur of safe houses, sleepless nights, and constant vigilance. Every sound in the night made her flinch; every shadow seemed like a threat. She barely spoke, rarely ate, and spent most of her time either pacing anxiously or staring into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Aiden and Paul kept a careful distance, watching her with a mixture of worry and patience, allowing her the space she needed, but always close enough to step in if she needed them.

One night, they were holed up in a tiny, dimly lit safe house on the outskirts of Montreal. The silence between them was thick as they prepared their meager dinner—a couple of cans of soup and stale crackers. Claire sat in the corner, clutching a small, worn photo of her brother, Callum, the edges frayed from her constant handling. She barely looked up as Aiden placed a bowl in front of her, his movements gentle, almost hesitant.

"You should eat," he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. "You haven't had much today."

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the photo, her fingers tracing Callum's face. The worry and fear for her brother gnawed at her, a constant ache that she couldn't shake. She'd barely spoken to Aiden or Paul since they'd taken her in, and though she knew they were trying to help, the walls she'd built around herself were unyielding.

Paul, sensing the tension, took a seat across from her, his gaze steady. "I know it's hard," he said, his voice gentle yet practical. "But you can't keep going like this, Claire. If you don't eat, you're going to get sick, and we can't afford that. Not now."

She looked up then, a flash of defiance in her eyes. "You don't know what it's like," she snapped, her voice sharp, raw. "You didn't see what I saw. You didn't watch him..." Her voice broke, the words catching in her throat as the memory of Joseph, her stepfather, flooded back, his cold, unyielding grip, the knife poised at her throat. She took a shaky breath, forcing the image away. "You don't know what I've lost."

Aiden and Paul exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. Finally, Aiden leaned forward, his expression serious. "You're right. We don't know exactly what you've been through. But we know what it means to lose everything. To be hunted. To be alone."

Paul nodded, his gaze softening. "And we're here because of that. Because your mother trusted us to protect you. The first few weeks after Claire's escape were a blur of safe houses, sleepless nights, and constant vigilance. Every sound in the night made her flinch; every shadow seemed like a threat. She barely spoke, rarely ate, and spent most of her time either pacing anxiously or staring into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Aiden and Paul kept a careful distance, watching her with a mixture of worry and patience, allowing her the space she needed, but always close enough to step in if she needed them.