Page 124 of Nowhere Good

She’d needed nice.

But it was her sister’s face that clarified before her. Orange hair and green eyes, no fake freckles this time.

“Oh, shoot.” She stood from her chair. “I should go get—”

“Stay,” Claire said, and Clem eased back into the chair. “You’re the first person I’ve seen other than the nurses and doctors.”

She hadn’t seen Seth, either. Though the image of his face in her mind was enough to punch her in the gut every time.

Today—whatever day it was—felt more stable than before, but she was still exhausted, hooked up to IVs, lying on this bed with bandages all over her arms. And the track marks. The doctors were definitely feeding her a sedative, but it was mild. Just enough to ease the pain so she could float.

Clementine leaned forward, unable to look at Claire for too long. She still had bandages of her own on her throat. “What happened out there?”

Everything before the shotgun was blurry. She supposed the adrenaline of having her life flash woke her up, because everything in the cornfield was clear, till the next time she lost consciousness. Then it was all a blur of hospital lights and gentle instructions from nurses.

“It’s okay,” Clementine murmured. “You don’t have to tell me. The police already did, I just…”

Claire stared at her sister, feeling numb. “Did you know?”

“I didn’t know what they were doing with you, but when they told me to lie, I knew something was really wrong.” Clem lowered her head in shame. “I should go to jail too.”

Claire didn’t know what to say. But she needed to know, finally, how much Clementine had fought for her. “Did you tell him before? That I saw the necklace?”

The look in Clementine’s eyes said everything. “It slipped out. To Marty.”

Claire might have been angry if she weren’t so detached. She stared at the wall. She didn’t want to see her sister’s face.

“I was pretty out of it after Trevor,” Clem said, “but I heard them talk about how they thought you were talking to Detective Winslow. Dillon said you hadn’t come back that night.”

She remembered.

The morning after her best night had turned into her worst day.

“Then when I was discharged from the hospital,” Clem continued, “they gave me a script to stick to. Tell the cops I’d seen you drive off safe with Dillon, that the two of you were engaged. I knew something was wrong, thought I heard Dillon in the house a few times, but—”

“Clem. Just stop.”

Clementine shut her trap. Claire wasn’t angry; she felt cold.

But her dad had taken so much from her—from them. Maybe that was why she said, “You feared him too,” with a small note of forgiveness.

“Of course I did,” Clem choked out. “I’m terrified of him. I always thought trying to keep you acting good was the way to protect you, but I was wrong, Claire. I’d do anything to take it all back.”

No one could take anything back. They’d both have to learn to live with that. “Did you know about Mom?”

“No, but… maybe I can see now, some weird things that happened around that time. Trevor looking at me different, that sort of thing.”

“I see.” Claire relaxed into the soft white pillow, a cloud beneath her head. “I wish I remembered her more. I was always jealous of you for that.”

“She was really nice and really stubborn.” Clementine’s smile reached her eyes. “You were her Mini-Me.”

Claire managed a slight smile back. She liked to think her mom’s spirit lived on in her, even if she didn’t believe anything happened after death.

“I… got to see Marty,” Clem said. “He’s okay. I mean, he’s not gonna walk ever again, but he’s alive. Not like Dillon. I’m so sorry, hon. I know you struggled with him, but…”

Claire leaned into the sedative’s embrace. It numbed more than the physical pain. “I don’t think Dad ever planned on keeping him around once he got rid of me. Part of me does feel bad—he tried to do right, in his own way, but it was too late. He probably never saw it coming.”

“I can’t even imagine it. I’m lucky Marty’s alive, so at least Sully will know his dad, but… he’s still going to jail.”