“You were using Nora to get close to me.”
“To meet you. Yes.”
“And later?”
Claire stared down at the gray carpet.
“Later I was scared you’d leave.”
That was the first answer she’d given me all night that didn’t seem wrapped in something noble.
I folded the photograph once, instantly regretted it, and opened it again.
“I need some time by myself.”
Claire stood.
“Do you want me to leave?”
I considered it.
Then I shook my head.
“Stay here.”
She nodded.
I walked outside alone.
And for once, Claire didn’t follow me.
But halfway across the library courtyard, another memory surfaced.
Nora snapping a book shut.
Me furious.
My own childish voice saying:
“Fine. Finish it yourself.”
I stopped walking.
Because suddenly I needed to know whether those had been the final words I’d ever said to her.
I texted Claire.
“Can you come outside?”
