Chapter 4
The person from the clinic came after the sun had gone down.
I knew because the frosted glass in the door turned gray instead of white, and because the hallway lights made a long stripe across the floor. My foot still throbbed under the blanket. Elena had checked it twice. Each time, she pressed lightly against my toes and watched my face more than my leg.
The new woman introduced herself as Ms. Alvarez. She wore a dark sweater, plain shoes, and a badge clipped to her waistband. She didn't stand over me. She pulled the supervisor's chair closer and sat with her hands resting in her lap.
"Your mom can stay," she said. "You don't have to answer anything you don't want to answer."
Claire sat beside the cot. Her trench coat was folded over the back of the chair, showing the grass stains on her running pants. She kept looking at the door.
Ms. Alvarez opened a notebook. "Before we talk, I want you to know something. If you need a break, you can say so. If you don't remember, you can say that too."
I nodded.
She asked me about the guard. I told her it had been in Claire's car. I told her Claire had said not to take it off. I didn't say Claire had sounded scared when she said it. I wasn't sure if that part mattered.
"What happened when the guard went on?" Ms. Alvarez asked.
I stared at the seam in the blanket.
Someone's hand had held my leg still. I remembered the pressure more than the hand. I remembered a voice close to my ear.
"Hold still."
I said the words.
Claire inhaled sharply.
Ms. Alvarez didn't look at her. She wrote them down and asked me where I heard them.
"I don't know."
"That's okay."
The door opened before she could ask anything else. A man in a navy jacket stood in the hallway. He had a phone in one hand and an impatient expression that made the room feel smaller.
"Claire," he said. "You need to come outside."
She stood halfway, then stopped.
Ms. Alvarez turned toward him. "This interview isn't finished."
"I'm not interrupting anything. I'm here to help her understand what happens next."
Claire's fingers curled around the edge of the chair.
He looked at me then, and his face changed. Not softer. More careful.
"Mrs. Mercer—"
"That's not my name," Claire said.
The man paused. "Claire, you have a right to counsel before this becomes something it doesn't need to become."
Elena moved beside the counter. She didn't block the door, but she stood where I could see her.
Ms. Alvarez closed her notebook. "You can leave the room, sir."
His jaw tightened. "I'm representing the family."
"No," Claire said quietly. "You're representing him."
The man glanced at her. For the first time, I saw anger underneath his patient voice.
"Think carefully," he said.
Claire sat back down.
He left without slamming the door. The latch clicked, and I felt the sound in my stomach.
Ms. Alvarez waited until his footsteps faded. Then she asked Claire if she wanted to change or withdraw anything she'd already said.
Claire looked at me. I watched her try to make her face ordinary.
"I want to correct something," she said. "I told the nurse I didn't know how the guard got on him."
Elena's pen stopped.
"I do know it was put on in my car," Claire continued. "I wasn't there when it happened. But I knew it wasn't supposed to stay on him."
"Why did you tell us you didn't know?" Ms. Alvarez asked.
Claire looked down at her hands. "Because I was afraid we'd lose the only place we could go."
Nobody spoke.
Ms. Alvarez explained that a temporary safe arrangement could mean staying somewhere other than home while the report was reviewed. She didn't promise it would be easy. She didn't promise no one would find us. She only said there were people whose job was to help us make a plan.
Claire asked, "Would he have to be separated from me?"
"Not necessarily."
"Would they take him somewhere?"
"Not if the safety plan can keep him with you."
Claire looked at me. "What do you want?"
My throat felt tight. "I want to go with you."
"I know."
"Don't send me somewhere else."
She reached for my hand, then stopped before touching it. I put my fingers on hers.
"We'll tell them that," she said.
The man in the navy jacket called Claire twice more. She didn't answer. On the third call, she turned the phone facedown and pushed it across the chair.
Elena returned the preserved phone to Ms. Alvarez, who placed it in an evidence sleeve.
By midnight, the supervisor brought us a paper with an address for a temporary apartment and a number to call if anyone came looking for us. Claire signed the form with a hand that shook only at the end.
At the door, she stopped.
"I need my coat," she said.
Elena handed it to her. The camel-colored fabric looked expensive and too clean for the clinic, except where the sleeve had picked up a faint smear of something dark.
Claire put it on without checking the stain.
I held Elena's hand for one second before we left. She let me decide when to let go.
In the parking lot, the air smelled like wet pavement. Claire buckled me into the passenger seat, then stood with the door open.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked.
She leaned down until her face was level with mine.
May you like
"I'm scared," she said. "That's different."
Then she shut the door, walked around the car, and drove us toward the temporary apartment without looking back at the clinic.
