Betty's POV. 

Claire’s footsteps sounded faint against the wooden stairs. 

When I looked up, she was gripping the railing tightly, her face pale and drawn. Each step seemed to take effort, and by the time she reached the bottom, she was already short of breath.

“Claire, you should be resting,” I said quickly, standing halfway to meet her.

She waved me off weakly, taking in a shaky breath. “No, I… I needed to say this,” she said, her voice strained but determined. 

“Betty ...