She was coming out of a bookstore, holding a bag, looking elegant in jeans and a cream blazer. She saw us at the exact same moment I saw her. She waved slightly, I stared at herawkwardly, still unsure if she was friend or foe. I meant, Michael had completely deflected every question about her.
She walked away before I could respond. Wave back or something.
I watched her go, this strange feeling settling in my chest.
“Who was that?” I turned to Pauline.
“Hannah Pierce?”
There was something too-bright about her voice, my eyes narrowed at her suspiciously.
“I know her name. But who is she? I feel like I should know her.”
“Maybe you’re overthinking it,”
I opened my mouth to respond—and the first wave of headache hit.
Sharp. Vicious. Like someone drove an ice pick straight through my skull.
I staggered, shock flooding through me faster than the pain.
“Claudette?” Pauline’s voice sounded distant. Muffled. “What’s wrong?”
I tried to speak. I couldn’t form words. The pain was escalating fast. Too fast. Spreading from the base of my skull like fire.
“Claudette! What’s happening?”
Images flashed behind my eyes—disjointed, wrong, too fast to grasp.
A doctor’s office.
Beige walls.
My mother crying—that broken, keening sound I didn’t recognize but somehow knew.
“I need to—” I managed. “I need to sit?—”
My legs gave out before I could finish the sentence.
My body hit the floor, her arms strong around me, her voice sharp with panic.
People were staring and moving around me. I could hear Pauline shouting at them to help.
The last thing I heard was Pauline’s voice—scared, frantic—saying my name over and over.
Then I feel my head hit something sharp, and it went black.
CHAPTER 13
Claudette
I woke to voices.
A woman crying—trying to muffle it, failing. A man’s voice, low and soothing, saying something I couldn’t make out.
I kept my eyes closed for a moment, trying to place the voices. They felt familiar. Too familiar.
When I finally opened my eyes, I saw them.
