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【 SEASON 1 EPISODE 8 】

Clara walked out the front door of the Chateau, the sun just beginning to set over the horizon. The air had a cool crispness to it, making the gravel beneath her boots crunch as she approached Pope, who was standing with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Over by the large oak tree, Kie was sitting on the swing that she had built herself, her legs kicking playfully as the swing creaked beneath her. The swing had a bin tied to it, clearly a makeshift design, but it was still one of her favorite things in the world.

"How's it feelin'?" Pope asked, leaning against the side of the house and squinting into the distance, his voice casual but with an edge of concern, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

"Feels good," Kie replied from the swing, sending Pope a quick, easy grin. Her voice was light and carefree, her hair blowing gently in the breeze as she swung higher.

Clara, seeing the opportunity to challenge Kie, grinned back. "Taking you down!" she shouted, her voice filled with mischief as she bolted toward Kie. Without giving her much of a chance to react, Clara reached out and grabbed the edge of the swing, yanking it downward with all her strength. Kie let out a surprised squeal as she was pulled off balance, tumbling backward and landing with a soft thud on the grass.

Kie lay there for a moment, stunned, before her laughter bubbled up, her eyes sparkling. "Okay, okay, I give," she said, her voice playful, catching her breath as she rolled to her feet. Clara stood above her, hands on her hips, a triumphant smile plastered on her face. "I'm gonna take that win!"

Pope laughed and shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You sure you wanna challenge her again?"

"Yeah, I can take her," Kie said, grinning, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Her eyes, however, flickered over to where JJ had been standing earlier, but he had seemingly disappeared.

"What's wrong with JJ?" Clara asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked around for him.

Kie shrugged. "Don't know, man. I think he's just..." Kie paused, clearly thinking about something she didn't want to vocalize. She then looked over at Pope. "Maybe he's just not okay, you know?"

Pope and Clara exchanged a glance, but before they could continue the conversation, a figure approached from the other side of the yard. Clara's gaze automatically snapped to the figure walking toward them, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who it was. It was John B, but he wasn't walking with his usual laid-back energy. He was angry, storming across the grass, and his face was tight with an emotion that didn't belong there.

"Speak of the devil," JJ said from behind them, his voice flat, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Hey!"

John B didn't even acknowledge JJ's greeting. His eyes were locked straight ahead as he kept walking, his jaw clenched, the tension radiating off of him. Clara's heart sank as she watched him move, her instincts telling her something was off. She hadn't seen him this way before.

"John B! What's up?" Clara called after him, her voice louder this time, trying to get his attention. She wanted to break through whatever wall he had put up between them.

JJ took a step forward, trying to get in on the conversation. "Dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything," he called out, hoping to get a reaction.

"No, he did not. I did that," Pope interjected quickly, his arms crossed tightly, clearly still irritated.

Clara turned her attention back to John B, who had continued walking, not responding to either of them. She felt something cold twist in her gut. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if something had shifted in him, and it made her uneasy.

"John B-" Clara said, her voice soft but urgent as she walked toward him. She reached out and touched his shoulder, but the second her fingers made contact, John B spun around violently, shoving her to the ground.

"What the hell?!" Clara yelled in shock, her body hitting the grass hard. She immediately scrambled to get back up, her hands shaking, the sting of the sudden impact still fresh on her skin. She could hear JJ and Pope both calling out for him to stop, but John B didn't even seem to hear them. He was already charging into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"John B, wait!" Clara shouted, but it was too late. John B was already inside, throwing things around the room in what looked like pure frustration.

"What's that all about?" Pope asked, his tone a mix of confusion and concern. He looked at Clara, who was still trying to recover from being shoved to the ground.

Clara shook her head. "I don't know..." Her voice was shaky as she stood up and brushed herself off, trying to regain her composure. She wanted to understand what was happening with John B, but it was like he was slipping further away, and she couldn't stop it.

"Sibling fight?" JJ asked, clearly trying to make light of the situation, but even he could sense that this was far beyond just a petty argument.

"No, we didn't have a fight," Clara said, her voice firm but soft as she shook her head. "I don't know what's going on with him."

They all stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. The air was thick with the uncertainty that hung in the space between them. Then, slowly, they all made their way inside.

The house felt different-tense, chaotic. Clara's heart began to race when she saw John B throwing things around, his face contorted with a wild, angry expression as he knocked over furniture and cabinets. The sounds of things breaking echoed through the house. He wasn't just angry-he was spiraling.

"You all right, man?" Pope called out, his voice soft and hesitant as he stepped forward, trying to reach out to his friend. "What's up?"

John B didn't respond. He was too far gone in whatever rage he was feeling. He yanked open a cabinet door, slamming it shut in a fit of frustration.

Clara took a few hesitant steps forward, her concern deepening with every action John B took. "John B, you're scaring me," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but it was enough to get his attention.

"What are you looking for?" Kie asked, stepping forward, her voice trembling. John B was moving quickly now, with no rhyme or reason. He rushed to the couch, pulled a pillow aside, and yanked something out from behind it. When Clara saw what it was, her blood went cold. It was a gun.

John B held it in his hands, his knuckles white from gripping it so tightly. His eyes were wild with emotion, like a man on the edge of breaking.

"Bro, what's going on?" JJ asked again, his voice strained. He took another step forward, but John B's wild eyes locked onto him, and he held the gun defensively.

"John B, what do you need a gun for?" JJ asked again, stepping closer, trying to make sense of this bizarre turn of events.

"Just-no!" Kie cried out in desperation, backing away as if she could physically feel the danger in the room.

"Talk to us!" JJ shouted now, his voice thick with fear and concern for his friend.

But it was no use. John B snapped. He threw JJ onto the couch with a violent push, the force sending him sprawling backward, knocking a nearby lamp off its stand. Clara's breath hitched, and her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the scene unfold.

"John B, chill!" Kie yelled, trying to reason with him, but John B was beyond reason. He shoved past Pope and made his way toward the kitchen. Pope stood his ground, moving into John B's path.

"What, are you JJ now?" Pope snapped, but John B grabbed him, spinning him around and sending him crashing into a table, knocking it over in the process.

Clara's heart pounded in her chest as she finally found her feet, the panic and confusion swelling inside her. She had to do something. She couldn't just stand here while everything fell apart.

"John Booker Routledge!" Clara shouted, her voice rising above the chaos. She used his full name-an attempt to ground him, to get through to him.

John B paused, turning slowly to face her. His eyes were filled with something darker now-grief, anger, and something else that Clara couldn't name. His face twisted as if he had been holding something back, and when he spoke, his words hit Clara like a freight train.

"Forget about the gold," John B said, his voice tight, each word laced with bitterness. "Ward killed our dad, Clara."

Clara's heart stopped. She couldn't breathe. The world around her seemed to freeze. Ward-his father-had killed their dad? The words didn't make sense. Her mind raced to process what he had said, but before she could react, John B revved up JJ's bike, the engine roaring to life. Without another word, he sped off, leaving Clara standing there, frozen in place, her body trembling with the weight of his revelation.

"No, no, no," Clara muttered, but her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed onto the grass, her entire body shaking. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and all she could do was watch as her adoptive brother disappeared into the distance.

Clara sat on Pope's boat, the gentle rocking of the water doing little to ease the storm brewing inside her. She hugged her knees to her chest, staring out at the water, her mind racing. The silence around her felt suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of the other Pogues talking amongst themselves. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with worry about John B, about what was happening, and about Ward's increasingly erratic behavior.

"What now?" JJ asked, his voice tinged with frustration. He leaned back against the boat's frame, arms crossed over his chest. He shot a look at Clara, awaiting some direction. "We just show up at the front door and ask, 'Hey, have you seen John B?'" His words were sharp, but the underlying anxiety was clear in his voice.

Clara's eyes flickered with the spark of an idea. She sat up straighter, her pulse quickening as the thought settled in her mind. "I have an idea," she said, the plan forming as the words left her mouth.

Pope, Kie, and JJ turned to her, all three faces reflecting a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Pope furrowed his brow, clearly skeptical, while Kie crossed her arms, silently waiting for Clara to explain herself. JJ just stared at her, his expression slightly impatient.

"What's your idea?" Pope asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone cautious. He wasn't sure if Clara's wild ideas were always a good thing, especially when the stakes were this high.

Clara glanced at each of them in turn, making sure they were paying attention. She knew they didn't like the idea, but she had no choice. "I live at Tanneyhill now too," she said, her voice low but confident. "I can act like I don't know what's going on. Pretend like I'm just showing up, like I have no idea about any of this."

Kie stared at her, disbelief written all over her face. "Clara, no," she said quickly, shaking her head. "You can't just pretend you don't know what's happening. It's way too risky. What if he catches on?"

JJ chimed in with a snort, clearly uncomfortable with the plan. "This sounds like a terrible idea," he muttered. "You're gonna walk in there and just act dumb, while Ward is already suspicious as hell?"

Clara looked at them both, trying to keep her emotions in check. The thought of not doing anything, of sitting around while they waited for the next big move, made her skin crawl. She wasn't going to let Ward get away with it. Not again. Not with John B. "Look," she began, forcing herself to be calm. "I can't just sit here. If I don't do this, we might never find out what's really going on. And if I don't act like I don't know anything, Ward will smell it. He'll know we're up to something. We need to get inside his head, and this is the only way I can do it."

Pope hesitated, glancing at the others. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but his words faltered. He knew Clara was right. Time was running out, and they needed information. He sighed heavily, a reluctant nod following. "Fine, but be careful. We don't know what we're dealing with, and Ward... he's not exactly the most stable guy right now."

Clara gave a tight smile, appreciating Pope's reluctant support. "I know. I'll be careful."

JJ rolled his eyes but gave a slight nod. "This better not blow up in our faces."

With that, Clara stood up, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned toward the shore, taking a deep breath as she walked toward the path leading up to the house. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, but she pushed forward, her mind firmly focused on the task ahead. She couldn't let herself falter now.

The house loomed ahead, the familiar sight of Sarah's home feeling colder than usual. As she approached the door, she felt the weight of her decision press down on her. She wasn't just walking into any house; she was walking into Ward Cameron's territory. She couldn't afford to show any fear. She couldn't let him see through the act. Not this time.

When Clara reached the front door, she hesitated for a moment before ringing the doorbell. The chime echoed through the house, and she held her breath, waiting for someone to answer. A moment later, the door creaked open, and there stood Ward, his face as stern and unreadable as ever. His eyes locked onto Clara, and she could see the flicker of something behind them-something colder, sharper. But he didn't say anything right away.

Clara forced a smile, trying to sound casual. "Hey, Mr. Cameron," she said, as though it was perfectly normal for her to be standing on his doorstep. "I thought I'd stop by. It's been a while since I've seen Sarah."

Ward's expression tightened slightly. He took a long, deliberate look at her, his gaze lingering. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Clara wondered if he was about to see through her act. But then he simply stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

"Come in, then," Ward said, his voice flat. "Sarah's upstairs."

Clara stepped inside, keeping her posture relaxed, her face schooled into an innocent mask. But her stomach twisted as soon as she crossed the threshold. This wasn't just any visit. This was dangerous.

As Clara stepped into the foyer, Ward turned to face her, his tone suddenly darkening. "So, you've been spending time with John B, huh?" he asked, his voice low, almost accusatory. "What exactly has he been telling you?"

Clara blinked, feigning confusion. "John B?" she asked, her voice pitched with genuine innocence. "No, I haven't seen him in a bit. Why? What's going on?"

Ward's eyes narrowed further, and he took a step closer to her. "You don't know, do you?" he said, a sneer curling at the corner of his mouth. "That kid has been stirring up trouble again. Spreading lies. You should be careful what he tells you, Clara. He's got a story he's telling everyone, and none of it's true. He's trying to make it look like something happened to that boat, like he was framed or something. But it's all lies. He's playing the victim."

Clara's heart sank, but she kept her face calm, masking her thoughts behind a neutral expression. "I didn't know about any boat stuff," she lied smoothly, stepping back a little, as if the news were genuinely new to her. "I didn't even know John B was having any problems."

Ward seemed to buy it, and his features relaxed slightly. "You'd better believe it," he muttered, his voice low and full of disdain. "Your brother's a troublemaker, and you're the one who'll have to deal with the fallout when it all comes crashing down."

Clara's mind raced, trying to keep up with the lies Ward was spinning. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing on her, but she had to stay in control. She nodded slowly, maintaining the illusion that she was just a confused, naive girl who had no idea what was really going on.

"Well, I'm just trying to get to the bottom of it," Clara said, glancing around the house. "I haven't seen him in a while. I thought maybe Sarah could tell me more."

Ward gave her a stiff nod. "She's upstairs. You can talk to her."

Clara took the opportunity to head toward the stairs, her pulse racing. As she walked upstairs, she could feel the tension rising. When she reached Sarah's door, she knocked softly before entering, trying to keep her composure.

Sarah was sitting at her desk, staring out the window, but when Clara entered, she immediately stood up and crossed the room to her. Without a word, Sarah pulled Clara into a tight embrace, and Clara allowed herself a brief moment of comfort before pulling back.

"I need to tell you something," Clara said softly, her voice shaky but determined. "What Ward's telling you... it's all lies. About the boat, about John B. Ward's been trying to cover up everything."

Sarah pulled back slightly, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" she whispered. "What are you talking about?"

Clara's voice dropped to a near whisper. "John B didn't lie. He didn't make anything up. Ward is the one behind it all. He's the one who did it."

Sarah's eyes filled with understanding, and for a moment, Clara could see the pain and confusion flicker across her face. "I believe you," Sarah whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "My dad... he tried to tell me lies too."

Clara felt a rush of relief, but she knew this was just the beginning. They were up against Ward now, and the truth was far from over. But for the first time, Clara felt like she wasn't alone in the fight.

Clara awoke slowly, her mind foggy from the lingering remnants of sleep. The soft light of the early morning filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across Sarah's room. The sheets beneath her felt soft and comforting, but it wasn't the bed that held her attention-it was the sensation of Sarah's arm, wrapped loosely around her waist. She could feel Sarah's warmth pressed against her, and, in the quiet of the room, Clara felt safe.

Her eyes fluttered open and met Sarah's. Sarah wasn't asleep-she was staring at her, her gaze soft and affectionate but tinged with something else-anxiety, maybe. It took Clara a moment to adjust to the brightness of the morning and the close proximity of Sarah's face. The lingering fear from everything they'd been through over the last few days was still hanging in the air, but Sarah's presence gave Clara a strange comfort.

Clara blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. A small laugh bubbled up from her chest. "What, are you a creep now?" she teased, her voice a little raspy from sleep. She tried to sound playful, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability to her words-an acknowledgment of the tension they both felt, unspoken but ever-present.

Sarah's lips curled into a small smile at the comment, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. There was something deeper there, an unease that made Clara's teasing fall away. Sarah's brow furrowed ever so slightly, and she lowered her gaze. "Sorry," she murmured. "I'm just scared."

Clara's smile faltered, and her heart twinged at the raw honesty in Sarah's voice. She had felt that same fear gnawing at her ever since everything had gone downhill. The reality of what was happening, the threats, the lies-it was all too much to bear sometimes. She shifted slightly, turning her body so that she could face Sarah more directly. She propped herself up on her elbow, the bed creaking softly as she moved.

"I'm scared too," Clara admitted, her voice quiet but steady. There was no need to hide it. There was no pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't. "I'm worried about my brother. I'm worried about what's going to happen next... what Ward is going to do next."

Sarah's expression softened, her eyes holding a tenderness that made Clara's chest ache. She reached up and brushed a lock of Clara's hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on Clara's skin for a beat longer than necessary. Sarah leaned in, her lips brushing Clara's forehead in a gentle, reassuring kiss. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver through Clara's body, and she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort it gave her in the midst of the chaos.

But just as Clara was starting to allow herself to relax into the moment, the door to Sarah's room was flung open with a sharp, jarring noise that made Clara's heart race. She sat up quickly, instinctively pushing herself away from Sarah, her body tense with alarm. Ward's imposing figure filled the doorway, his cold eyes scanning the room as he stepped inside, his presence suffocating.

Clara's stomach dropped. She didn't want to face him, not now, not after everything. She'd been dreading this moment since the first time they crossed paths, and it felt like the weight of it all was crashing down on her at once.

Ward's voice was low, commanding, and utterly devoid of warmth. "Get up," he ordered, his gaze flicking between Clara and Sarah, his tone as cold as ever. "We're going for a drive."

Clara and Sarah exchanged a quick, silent glance. Clara's heart pounded in her chest as she processed his words. A drive? What did that even mean? The anxiety that had been simmering in her chest suddenly flared up, but there was no time to question it. Ward had made it clear that he wasn't giving them a choice.

Panic set in as Clara's mind raced. What did he want from them now? Where were they going? What was he planning? All of it felt like a bad dream, the kind you couldn't wake up from. Clara opened her mouth to protest, but she didn't get the chance. Ward's voice cut through the silence again, this time colder and sharper.

"Get dressed," he snapped, as if it were the most ordinary command. "Now."

Clara's stomach twisted. There was no argument in his voice. No room for questions. She wasn't sure what to do, but she knew one thing-this wasn't going to end well if they didn't comply. Ward didn't give her the time to dwell on it. He stood there, unwavering, watching them as if they were both just pawns in a game he was controlling.

She glanced at Sarah, who, despite the obvious fear in her eyes, gave her a small, comforting nod. It was as if Sarah was silently telling her that they'd face whatever came next together, no matter how bad it was. Clara could see the same worry reflected in Sarah's face, but there was also a flicker of determination there.

Without another word, Clara swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool air hitting her skin. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but there was no time to dwell on the fear. They had no choice. They had to follow Ward's orders.

Clara moved quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a shirt, trying to push aside the rising dread in her stomach. Sarah dressed in silence beside her, their motions synchronized in a strange, unspoken agreement. It was as though they were both trying to ignore the weight of Ward's looming presence, focusing only on the task at hand.

As Clara finished dressing, she took one last glance at Sarah. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, Clara tried to convey everything she was feeling-fear, worry, but also love and trust. They had no idea where Ward was taking them, or what he had planned, but they'd face it together.

Clara took a deep breath and walked toward the door. She hesitated for just a moment before stepping out, her heart heavy in her chest. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. And she had no idea what Ward was planning, but she wouldn't back down-not now, not when she was so close to finding the truth about everything.

The soft hum of the car engine filled the silence as Ward drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road ahead. His posture was rigid, his jaw set in a determined line that spoke of an underlying tension. Sarah sat next to him, her body angled toward the window, her expression unreadable. Her fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of her sleeve, and every so often, she glanced over her shoulder at Clara in the back seat. Clara sat with her arms crossed, her body stiff, her eyes never leaving Ward. She felt the air thick with suspicion, the oppressive weight of his presence hanging over them like a storm cloud. Every little movement, every passing second, only seemed to amplify her unease.

As they drove past the bell tower, Clara's gaze drifted toward the familiar landmark, a symbol of their town, a place that once felt safe, but now seemed so distant. The bell tower had always been a quiet observer of their lives-now, it felt like it was silently watching them on this strange journey. Clara's chest tightened at the thought. This was no ordinary drive, no ordinary trip. There was something more going on, and Ward was at the center of it.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She watched Sarah in the front seat, her shoulders tense, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she kept glancing between Clara and her father. There was a strange tension in Sarah's gaze, an almost imperceptible worry that mirrored Clara's own. For all the normalcy of their lives-of being close, of sharing secrets and laughter-the sense that something was amiss had never felt more palpable than now. She hated the idea of what Ward might have planned, and every inch of her body screamed to find a way out.

"Dad, I don't understand why I need to go to the Bahamas," Sarah's voice broke the silence. Her words hung in the air, a mix of confusion and frustration. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting back to Clara, who immediately tensed up.

"The Bahamas?" Clara couldn't help herself-her voice was thick with disbelief. She looked at Sarah, her eyes wide with confusion and shock, then shifted her gaze to Ward in the front seat. What the hell was going on? Why the Bahamas? She had no idea what to make of it, but one thing was certain-this wasn't just a vacation. There was something about it, something unsettling about the way Ward had brought it up so casually, that set her nerves on edge.

Sarah's gaze met Clara's, a fleeting exchange of unspoken understanding. Both of them felt the same knot in their stomachs. This wasn't right. The questions, the doubts, they were beginning to pile up faster than they could process.

"Sarah?" Clara's voice was softer now, laced with a quiet urgency. Her heart beat faster as she watched Sarah's face for any hint of an answer.

"I-I think Clara and I need to talk to John B," Sarah finally blurted out, her voice shaky but firm. It was almost as though she'd been holding it in for too long, and now, she had no choice but to speak it aloud. Her eyes briefly locked with Clara's again, and there was a silent understanding between them-one that wasn't spoken but was felt deep in their hearts. They both knew John B was at the center of everything, and it was time they figured out what was really going on.

Ward's reaction was swift, his tone sharp as he cut through the tension in the car. "No, sweetheart, I told you, he is not himself right now. All right? This isn't forever. I'm even letting Clara come. After all, I'm her guardian. It's just until they're able to find him and get him the help he needs. Trust me, alright?" His words felt rehearsed, calculated-like he was trying to sell them a lie. Clara felt her pulse race at his words. He was using Sarah's need for reassurance against her. She could see right through it. His claims that it was temporary, that it wasn't permanent-Clara didn't believe a word of it.

Her eyes narrowed, studying Ward as he drove, the smooth confidence in his voice only serving to make her more suspicious. Everything about this situation felt wrong. She exchanged another glance with Sarah, who was still gripping the armrest, her eyes fixed on the road ahead but distant, far away. Sarah wasn't convinced, and neither was Clara. But neither of them knew how to confront him.

Clara shook her head slightly. "This doesn't feel right, Sarah," she whispered under her breath, more to herself than to Sarah. She was starting to feel like they were being led into a trap-just a step away from being cornered.

The silence in the car thickened, stretching out between them like an unspoken confession. Clara could feel Sarah's discomfort in every shift of her body, every glance at her father. She could almost feel the weight of Sarah's silent questions-her doubts mirrored Clara's own.

"I'm telling you, you'll be fine," Ward's voice interrupted the silence again, this time more forceful. His gaze didn't waver from the road, but Clara could feel the pressure in his words. "Once we get you both situated, you'll see that this is for the best. The Bahamas, the help we've arranged for John B-he's going to be fine."

Sarah exchanged another glance with Clara. No words were necessary-they both knew. They both could feel the heaviness of Ward's manipulation. The lies he was selling, the way he tried to downplay the danger, made them both uneasy. This wasn't a vacation. And John B wasn't just going to get "help."

Clara's chest tightened, her thoughts racing. They were being lied to, and she was certain it wasn't just about John B anymore. It was about everything-about what Ward had been hiding, about his involvement in everything they had all been trying to figure out. Clara was determined to get answers. They weren't going to just let this happen.

And then, as if to confirm her fears, the silence filled the car again, the air thick with the weight of secrets, of unspoken words, as they continued down the road toward the unknown.

Ward stepped out of the car with a sense of urgency, his eyes scanning the area as he walked briskly toward one of his workers who had been waiting nearby. His posture was tight, his movements deliberate as he spoke in hushed tones, giving instructions. His figure was a stark contrast to the silence that had fallen inside the car, where the tension between Sarah and Clara was thick enough to suffocate the air.

As soon as Ward was out of sight, Sarah swiftly turned in her seat, her eyes wide with urgency. "We have to go," she said, her voice low but firm, her gaze shifting between Clara and the still-running engine of the car.

Clara furrowed her brow in confusion. "Into the plane?..." she started, but Sarah immediately cut her off.

"No, Clara. We need to get out of here." Sarah's voice shook slightly as she spoke, but her resolve was clear. She leaned closer, her hands gripping the edge of the seat as her eyes locked onto Clara's. "Something isn't right, and I know you agree since you told me so. What are we supposed to do? John B is getting framed. He's your brother."

Clara's breath caught at Sarah's words. A lump formed in her throat as her mind raced, thinking about her brother-about the mess he'd been thrown into, the dangerous trap that Ward had set for him. Her gaze softened, and she sighed, pushing open the door to the car. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice heavy with the weight of uncertainty. "But we can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Come on," she said, stepping out of the car, Sarah quickly following her lead.

They made their way toward the bustling scene ahead of them, unaware that they were being watched. From a distance, hidden behind some large crates stacked high on a truck, four figures watched them intently through binoculars-John B, Kie, Pope, and JJ. John B slowly lowered the binoculars from his eyes, his breath coming in shallow, shaky bursts. His face was etched with disbelief, and his heart pounded in his chest.

"What is it?" Kie's voice was high-pitched, filled with both confusion and concern. "John B! What is it?!"

"It's Sarah... and-and Clara," John B breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper, a pang of hurt and confusion evident in his tone. His gaze never left the two girls as they walked toward Ward, their body language tense. "Ward has them,"

Pope's brow furrowed as he processed the information. "They're with him?!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. The weight of it all hit him like a freight train. He had known Clara for years, and the thought that she could be siding with Ward, especially with what he had been doing, made his stomach turn.

"Come on, guys. Let's get this stuff loaded," Ward called over to his workers, his voice sharp and commanding. He glanced at the girls as they stepped toward him, their expressions too determined, too suspicious for his liking. "Hey! Be careful with that," he yelled at the workers, his tone a little more harsh than usual.

Sarah was already looking around, her curiosity piqued. "What's in the boxes?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she observed the crates being loaded into the waiting vehicles.

Ward tried to brush her off, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Uh, it's just some, uh... decorative marble pieces that Rose found for properties down there. Antiques, I think," he said with a forced nonchalance, but Sarah wasn't buying it. She could feel the tension rising in the air, the underlying lie in his words that made her gut twist.

She grabbed Clara's arm gently, pulling her aside and leaning close enough to whisper in her ear, her voice low but filled with a sense of urgency. "I think he knows about the gold," Sarah murmured, her breath catching in her throat as she realized the truth of what was happening.

Clara's eyes widened at the implication, her mind racing. She turned her gaze back toward Ward, who was still overseeing the workers, his back turned, too distracted to notice them.

"That's it! Close it up!" Ward yelled, his impatience rising.

Sarah wasn't going to let it go. "Excuse me. Hi. What's in those crates?" she asked one of the workers, her voice firm as she stepped forward.

The worker blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. "Sorry?" he replied, taken aback by her sudden question.

"Um... Obviously the ones that you're transporting into the airplane," Clara clarified, stepping closer. She gave the worker a pointed look. "Could you please let us know what's inside? Cause this hella sus,"

Before the man could respond, Ward was already there, his presence looming over the scene like a dark cloud. He placed a hand on each of the girls' shoulders, guiding them away from the crates. "Yeah, sorry," he said, his smile forced, a thin veneer of politeness masking his frustration.

"Excuse me," Sarah continued, her voice rising in protest as Ward led them away. She dug in her heels, refusing to let him push them around. "What?"

Ward's expression darkened as he leaned in, trying to regain control of the situation. "Hey. Come on," he said, his voice low and firm.

"We're just asking questions," Sarah said, trying to keep her tone calm but insistent.

"I know, it's fine," Ward smiled again, though it was tight and strained. "Let's just get on the plane."

"No," Sarah replied quickly, shaking her head, her resolve hardening. She wasn't going to let him manipulate her this time.

"Please, get on the plane," Ward pleaded, his voice becoming more desperate. He could sense the rebellion in her, the growing defiance, and he wasn't going to let it spiral out of control. "We have to get going."

But Sarah wasn't backing down. She stood her ground. "I've changed my mind. We're going home," she declared, pulling Clara away from him, her grip tightening as she walked away with purpose.

"SARAH. CLARA!" Ward's voice broke the air, his tone angry and laced with frustration. He jogged after them, his footsteps quickening as he tried to close the distance.

"Excuse me," Sarah said, her voice cutting through the chaos as she tried to get through a group of workers who were blocking her path.

Ward's patience snapped. "No! No! Do not cause a scene," he growled, grabbing Sarah's wrist with surprising force, his fingers digging into her skin as he yanked her back. "Do not cause a scene," he repeated, his grip tightening around her wrist.

"NO! STOP! STOP!" Sarah shouted, her voice breaking with the intensity of her fear and anger. She struggled in his grip, but he was too strong, too determined.

"Clara, go! Go!" Sarah screamed, pushing Clara forward, urging her to run. "Go!"

Clara didn't hesitate-she turned, ready to take off, but Ward's other hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly and pulling her back toward him. The force of his grip left her breathless, her heart racing in her chest.

With both girls in his grasp, Ward turned and began guiding them back toward the plane, each step bringing them closer to something they couldn't yet understand-but felt deep in their bones.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Clara shouted, her voice raw with anger and fear. Her arms flailed as she tried to free herself from Ward's relentless grip, but he only tightened his hold on her wrist. She yanked and twisted, her heart racing in her chest. The force he was exerting on her was suffocating, and every tug seemed to push her further into panic.

"Get in!" Ward barked, his voice sharp and commanding as he shoved her toward the plane, his strength overpowering her resistance.

"No, we don't wanna go!" Sarah cried, her own struggles intensifying as she thrashed about in an attempt to break free. The fear coursing through her veins was palpable, and as she tried to pull away from him, her body was only met with his unyielding strength. Ward's grip tightened around her arm, and with a swift motion, he shoved her into the plane.

"Ward, stop!" Clara yelled, but her own voice faltered in the chaos. She looked helplessly at Sarah, watching her being forced into the seat as Ward roughly strapped her into the seatbelt. The pressure in the air felt stifling, and the metallic hum of the plane's interior was deafening.

"You listen to me!" Ward exclaimed with growing anger, his eyes wild with frustration. His voice cracked with rage as he reached over and pushed Clara, slightly off-balance, into the middle seat next to Sarah. The same ruthless, calculated motions followed as he repeated the same action on her that he had done with his daughter-strapping her in tightly and making sure she couldn't move.

"Ward, please!" Clara begged, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and disbelief. "Ward, you can't do this!"

"Shut up!" Ward shouted back, his voice booming in the tight space of the plane. His words were sharp, cutting through Clara's plea, and the violence in his tone made Clara recoil instinctively. The sudden outburst had her flinching back into the seat, her pulse quickening in fear.

"You're insane!"

Without another word, Ward reached over, his large hands gripping the controls as he started the engine of the plane. The roar of the engine reverberated through the cabin, filling the space with an oppressive noise. He pulled some levers, and the plane began to rumble to life.

Sarah's heart pounded as she felt the plane gradually begin to move forward. She glanced toward the open window, her breath catching in her throat as she saw something unexpected-a flash of familiar, comforting colors. It was the Twinkie van, and it was gaining speed, catching up with the plane.

A smile spread across Sarah's face at the sight of the minivan. Her girlfriend's brother, John B, was behind the wheel. The recognition and the relief surged through her like a wave.

"John B!" Clara breathed out, her face lighting up as she saw her brother's van. The relief in her voice was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed as if there might still be hope-maybe they weren't too far gone.

"Get off the runway!" Ward shouted suddenly, his voice filled with frantic urgency. "Get off!" His hands gripped the levers tighter as he pulled them toward him, ready to take flight and speed away from whatever threat he felt behind them.

Sarah's eyes went wide as the distance between the plane and the van closed. She couldn't let him do this-couldn't let him escape with them. Desperation flooded her. She reached out and grasped Ward's hand, her fingers gripping it with all her might, trying to yank it away from the control. She needed him to stop, needed to slow down before they made a horrible mistake.

But Ward wasn't going to give her the chance. With a brutal force, he slammed his hand against her head, pushing it back. The impact was sharp and sudden, and Sarah's head slammed into the cold metal wall of the plane with a sickening thud. A wave of dizziness hit her as she gasped for air, her vision swimming for a second. The pain radiated through her skull, and she winced, trying to fight through the disorientation.

Clara watched in horror as Sarah's head collided with the plane's interior, the loud crack of the impact echoing in her ears. Her heart raced as her hands moved involuntarily, her fist striking Ward's arms in a desperate attempt to free Sarah.

"You're fucking crazy!" Clara shouted, her voice trembling with a combination of anger and fear. She wanted to get away, wanted to stop this madness, but all she could do was lash out in a futile attempt to defend Sarah. "Stop the plane!"

John B's voice echoed in her mind as he swerved the Twinkie van around the runway, now positioning himself just a few feet ahead of the plane. His eyes were locked on the path in front of him, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he maneuvered with precision. The gap between the two vehicles was closing quickly, and Clara could see the deadly collision that loomed ahead.

"Stop! Stop, you're gonna kill him!" Sarah screamed, her voice hoarse from both the pain and the terror. Her eyes were locked on the van, knowing that if Ward didn't stop, they would crash-her girlfriend's brother life was in danger.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The sound of the engines roared in the background, the plane steadily picking up speed as they rushed toward the Twinkie van. Then, in a surprising turn of events, Ward slammed his foot onto the brake. The plane screeched to a halt, the entire body of the aircraft jerking as the wheels caught the ground. The sudden stop threw the girls forward in their seats, their bodies slamming into the backs of the seats as the heavy crates of gold tumbled into them.

The plane's motion halted, its engines still rumbling as it gradually slowed to a stop. The two girls panted heavily, their breaths shaky as the adrenaline and exhaustion from the ordeal began to take over. The weight of the moment hung in the air, and despite the brief victory, the situation wasn't over. Ward had stopped the plane, but the danger wasn't gone-it was only just beginning.

"SARAH! CLARA!" John B yelled, his voice echoing across the tense air as he ran towards them. His heart was racing, his body thrumming with adrenaline, but there was no time to process his relief. Ward was already out of the plane, storming toward him, ready to confront the boy.

Clara was the next to exit, stumbling onto solid ground. She quickly turned back, reaching out for Sarah and pulling her out of the plane's cabin. The two girls, disheveled and breathless, found themselves standing beside John B. It was a small victory, but it didn't last long.

"You trying to kill them?" Ward challenged, his voice filled with fury. His chest heaved as he stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at John B. "Trying to get us all killed?!"

"I need the gold, Ward!" John B yelled back, his tone defiant but tinged with desperation.

"No! No! No!" Sarah shouted, rushing over with Clara. Her voice cracked as she got closer to John B. "John B," she whispered, her hands trembling as she pulled him into a tight embrace. Clara joined them, sobbing into her brother's arms. "John B, you're okay," she whispered, a sense of relief washing over her despite the chaos unfolding around them.

"Get away from him." Ward seethed, his words coming out through gritted teeth, a dangerous edge to his voice as he moved toward them.

"No! Don't touch us!" Sarah shouted, her voice full of defiance as she slapped his hand away from her arm. John B swiftly stepped in front of Sarah, his protective instincts kicking in. He pulled her behind him, securing his arms around Clara.

"And don't tell us what to do," Clara added, her voice strong despite the fear that still lingered in her chest. The tension in the air was suffocating, and Clara could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage.

Suddenly, the wail of sirens cut through the air. A police car came barreling toward them, its lights flashing as it slid to a stop near the plane. Sarah and Clara looked up, startled, as the car came to a screeching halt. Ward glared at the approaching sheriff with disdain.

"You think this changes anything? It doesn't," Ward spat, his voice dripping with venom as he tried to maintain control of the situation.

"You gotta get outta here," Sarah started, her gaze directly on John B and Clara, her voice tight with urgency. "You gotta..."

"Oh, thank God you're here," Ward interrupted, his tone falsely relieved as he saw the sheriff step out of the car. "Susan, I told you he lost his damn mind. And Clara, just tried to kill Sarah and I in the plane." He shot Clara an accusatory glance.

Clara only gave him a look of disbelief, her brows furrowed as she tried to process his words. "Seriously? You just tried to kill us!"

The town's sheriff, Susan Peterkin, didn't seem to care for Ward's excuses. "Put your hands on your head," she ordered, her voice unwavering.

"I'd do what she said, kids," Ward laughed with satisfaction, clearly misunderstanding the situation, his expression one of false confidence. But John B had already locked eyes with the officer behind him, who had drawn her pistol and was pointing it directly at Ward.

"She's talking to you, Ward," John B said firmly, his voice cold.

Ward's face twisted into one of confusion and anger. "Are you kidding me?" he sneered, but there was a tremor in his voice now-he could no longer deny the weight of the situation.

"Put your hands on your head," Sheriff Peterkin repeated, her voice commanding, steady as steel.

"Are you kidding me, Sue?" Ward repeated in disbelief, but his defiance was fading.

"You heard him!" Clara said with frustration and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Put your hands on your head!" Peterkin demanded, her voice now sharp, and Ward, realizing the fight was no longer in his favor, did exactly as he was told. With a grunt of frustration, he turned around, dropping to his knees as Peterkin commanded.

"I don't like bein' used," Peterkin muttered under her breath as she forcefully pushed Ward onto the ground, pinning him down with her authoritative grip. "I waited a long time for this."

Ward struggled, attempting to fight back, but Peterkin was quick. She forced him down onto his knees, and the metallic sound of handcuffs snapped into place around his wrists. As she moved with precision, drawing her weapon with practiced ease, Clara instinctively stepped back, wanting to distance herself from the growing tension and the weapon now aimed at her father.

But then, it happened.

The whole scene seemed to explode in slow motion. It was a single, sharp sound, a gunshot that rang through the air. Clara's breath caught in her throat, and Sarah gasped in shock. She turned her head in disbelief, her hands flying to her mouth as her eyes locked on the sheriff. Clara jumped back in horror, her heart leaping into her throat as she watched the sheriff drop to her knees.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. The world around them blurred as the realization of what had just occurred hit them all at once.

Sheriff Peterkin collapsed to the ground, a look of surprise and pain on her face as she crumpled under the impact. Blood began to seep from her side, staining the ground beneath her.

"No!"

ASH SPEAKS!!!

we're getting closer to s2...and john b gets his own love interest 🤭

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