Broken Mirrors

Chapter One

Clair pic above

Clair never imagined she would be moving in with her father. When her parents separated 15 years ago, they decided it was best for her to stay with her mother, while her stepsister Dinah, who wasn't related to her mother, stayed with her father. But after her mother passed away two months ago, Clair had no choice but to move in with him. She hadn't seen him in years.

As she slowly descended the stairs, Clair took her time, scanning the house and soaking in every detail one last time. She recalled the sweet memories of freshly baked pies and cookies, whenever her mom got into one of her fabulous baking moods.

"Are you ready?" The chauffeur interrupted her moment of peace. Clair nodded, watching as he collected her shiny red suitcases.

Her father, George Hart, owned Hart Enterprises in Manhattan. Of course, he hadn't come to pick her up himself. They didn't have the best relationship—he was always busy with his new family, only checking in on her during the holidays. But after her mother's death, George decided to arrange for some time with his daughter, hoping to mend things between them.

Clair walked down the steps and shut the door behind her. She glanced at the car before hesitantly climbing into the back seat of the SUV. She sulked as the car pulled away, leaving her old life—and its memories—behind.

After a short, smooth flight and long hours of driving, Clair saw the car turn onto a long, narrow street leading to a large mansion. The Hart house loomed in the distance, huge and distinct. Minutes later, they arrived at a big gate, which opened as security acknowledged the vehicle.

A woman with brown skin and Native American features came down the stairs, smiling from ear to ear. Clair exited the car, trying to match her enthusiasm, but her smile faded as the woman pulled her in for a hug.

"It's so nice to meet you, dear," the woman said warmly, hugging her tighter.

"Nice to meet you too," Clair replied with a small smile.

Moments later, George stepped out, wrapping his arms around Clair in a comforting hug.

"It's great to have you home, love," he said brightly.

Clair smiled back, playfully punching him. "Getting old, aren't ya?" she teased.

George chuckled as he walked into the house. Clair couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite furniture and marble floors.

"Nice house," she commented.

"And there's much more for you to see, dear," the woman added, smiling. "Come on, you must be tired."

Clair adjusted her skirt and glanced from the woman to her father. "Yeah, I am pretty tired."

She gave her dad a warm hug before following the woman up the long, beautiful staircase. The woman opened the door to a well-decorated room.

"Don't be afraid to ask for anything, dear," she said.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hart," Clair replied quietly.

"Call me Iris. We're family, after all, right?"

Clair swallowed hard at the words, the silence hanging in the air. After a moment, she looked up and bit her bottom lip before managing a smile.

"Yes, of course."

"Sweet dreams, baby doll," Iris said, closing the door behind her.

Clair collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows as she repeatedly asked herself what was wrong. Iris's words echoed in her mind: "We're family, after all, right?" She glanced at the four suitcases by the bedside, not bothering to unpack. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled the covers over her head and drifted into a deep sleep.