Chapter Text
Prologue
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2015
(Claire – 23)
Claire Lyons stared down at the newspaper in her hands. She wanted to remember everything, every detail, about this moment. The texture of the compressed paper, the bitter smell of the ink, the feel of her heart beating steadily in her chest. Her hands shook a little as she lowered the paper onto the bed. The cover of the New York Times faced innocently up at the hotel ceiling with no regard to the fact that it had just changed Claire's life forever.
HEIRS TO BHC – DERRICK HARRINGTON AND MASSIE BLOCK ENGAGED
Claire closed her eyes and took deep breath to center herself. She reached into her bedside table and rifled through the drawer looking for her scissors. Claire lifted the newspaper again and painstaking cut out the article with great care. The frozen faces of her past classmates stared at her from the front of the large property of the Harrington Estate and Claire felt a flash of rage run through her. Her mind cleared instantly when she returned to her task.
The article removed, Claire tossed the rest of the paper away carelessly. She would pursue it later. Claire hopped off the bed and reached under her bed for her suitcase. Popping it open and shoving her clothes out of the way, Claire clicked open the secret compartment and pulled out an old leather-bound scrapbook. Claire set it on the bed and opened it to the first page.
It had been a long time since she had looked at the scrapbook from the beginning. Closing her eyes, Claire slid her hand along the lamented pages of her lifeline. When she was ready, she opened her eyes and stared down at the assortment of articles and pictures.
Various photos her father, Jay Lyons, stared back. Formal photos of him at a press conference. A shot of him being escorted off by the FBI. A photo of him hiding his face as he exited the courtroom. An article with his mug shot. Claire had read it all, despite her mother furious reaction, and Claire had kept it all.
Claire blinked back tears as she stared at her father's face. She hated that these were the only photos that she had of him left. She hated that these were her most prominent memories of him.
Claire could remember how he had pushed her on the swings, higher and higher, until she was breathless with fear. Claire could remember how he tucked her into bed at night and the way he kissed her forehead and before ruffling her fringe. The way he roared their family motto and the way he flipped his pancakes onto her plate. The way he always raised his eyebrows and winked at her behind her mother to let her know he was on her side.
Claire had no photos of those things. None. But worst of all, Claire did not even have a single photo of the two of them together.
She felt so frustrated she couldn't go on and read until the end; she skipped to the most recent blank page and slid in the latest article announcing Massie and Derrick's engagement. Smoothing out the page, Claire shut the book. Clutching her scrapbook to her chest, Claire flopped back onto the hotel bed and thought.
It had taken her five years to compile it all, five years of thorough research, five years of careful planning. She had hoped for a little more time, but this was the sign that she had been waiting for. It was time.
It was time for her return.
It was time for her revenge.
And when she was done, all of Westchester would burn. The lives that had destroyed hers would be begging her for mercy.
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