Initially, Claire had only been close to Yolande and Seb.
But after that late-night meal, she found herself forming a genuine bond with the three Quincy siblings as well.
By the time they finished eating and headed back to the estate, it was past two in the morning.
Claire crashed into bed the second she walked through the door, while the others dispersed to the guest rooms.
Yolande bunked with Claire, leaving Quinn and Yara to take the spare suites.
For Yolande, having a sister she could be this close to was an entirely new experience.
She had never shared a bed with any of her cousins from the Byron family.
She rarely ever stayed over at the Byron estate, sensing from a young age that they despised her.
Her cousins there would look at her with barely concealed jealousy.
Even as a child, she had been incredibly sensitive to that kind of toxic energy.
One of her cousins had even picked a fight with her once, demanding to know why she didn't get to be Tiffany's daughter instead.
The girl had spat that Yolande only had a good life because she was riding on Tiffany's coattails.
The sheer venom in that gaze had always made Yolande deeply uncomfortable.
But Claire was different. Yolande felt an instant, comforting warmth from her.
Even though Tiffany had constantly bad-mouthed Claire, branding her a greedy predator who had returned to steal everything Yolande owned.
Yolande hadn't sensed a single ounce of hostility from Claire; only genuine kindness.
They could be true sisters, and deep down, Yolande desperately craved that connection.
"Claire, I..." Yolande whispered, wanting to stay up and chat.
At the very least, she wanted to apologize for her mother's horrific behavior.
But Claire had fallen asleep far quicker than she anticipated.
Hearing Claire's steady, rhythmic breathing, Yolande quickly closed her own eyes.
She had assumed sleep would evade her tonight.
Not just because she was in an unfamiliar bed next to someone else, but because of the sheer emotional whiplash of the evening.
Her own mother had tried to sell her off; no one was more shattered by that reality than Yolande.
But as she lay there, the exhaustion quickly overtook her.
The comforting presence radiating from Claire washed over her, bringing her an overwhelming sense of peace.
Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
When Claire woke up the next morning, Yolande was still out cold.
The relatives who had stayed the night were already up and heading to breakfast.
Hearing the commotion outside the door, Claire gently nudged Yolande awake.
Yolande technically had her own bedroom in the estate, but she had given it up for the Quincy Sisters last night.
So she had to trudge down the hall to her room to freshen up.
By the time she finished getting ready and made her way to the dining room, Claire was already seated.
"Yolande, hurry up and eat."
"Quinn, Yara, come sit over here."
Claire gestured for everyone to join her.
She grabbed a warm croissant and took a bite.
A glass of milk rested by her hand.
Claire looked completely relaxed as she enjoyed her breakfast.
After finishing their meals, the rest of the guests slowly began to depart from the estate.
Claire, however, kept a watchful eye on Yolande and Seb.
Neither of them looked particularly great though Yolande had clearly gotten enough sleep after crashing in Claire's room.
Seb, on the other hand, looked like he hadn't slept a wink.
Unsurprisingly, right after breakfast, Seb announced he was heading home to catch up on sleep.
The adults didn't try to stop him.
It was impossible to expect him to be in a good headspace after everything that had happened.
"Seb, don't overthink things. Just go
home
father will handle the situatione!
end get some rest. Your
your mother, motherContent
Ophelia said gently. She was quite fond of her nephew.
Seeing him so worn down genuinely worried her.
He had his SATs coming up, and she prayed this family drama wouldn't derail his studies.
"Thank you, Ophelia. I know."
Seb gave a polite nod, but deep down, he knew his father's indecisive nature better than anyone.
Meanwhile, Owen Churchill had returned home, absolutely vibrating with rage.