//CLARA//
I didn't know how long Oliver held me, or when I stopped crying. But eventually, I managed to pull myself together without shattering again.
I pulled back and offered him a weak smile.
"Sorry," I said, letting out a wet laugh. I wiped my face dry, then reached for his shoulders to smooth the wrinkles I'd left behind. "I didn't mean to do that."
Oliver glanced down at his shirt. "That should be the least of your worries."
"Fair point." I sniffed. "Well, I should get going. As much as I want to hide in your office forever, I can't."
"You're pale, Eleanor." His brow furrowed with concern. "Do you want me to take you home? My carriage is right there."
I just shook my head. I couldn't stay. Couldn't talk. Not yet. The words Cuthbert and Syndicate were sitting on the back of my tongue like lit matches. One more sentence and I'd set the whole room on fire.
I needed to be alone. Just for a minute. To breathe without someone waiting for me to crack.
