CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
C HAPTER T WENTY -F OUR
How do I live with all the lies?
Claire reeled as her bio mom left the room. That’s not what she’d expected. It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t be that woman’s daughter.
But her denial felt as empty as her heart.
For the very first time, it hit her. She had no one. She was completely alone. She didn’t remember Pam Sawyer. Claire had zero memories of her. Why not? How could she have been raised by this woman for the first five years of her life and retain no recollection of her? It seemed impossible.
But was it?
A sickening sense of déjà vu flooded her. The Sawyers had felt familiar in a way she couldn’t fully understand.
Maybe she didn’t want to.
After the sheriff had told her that her biological mother was still alive, she hadn’t had time to imagine what her bio mom was like. She’d had a couple of minutes to think, Maybe I’m not alone .
Because the reality of her situation since it happened was that she had no one. No one to attend her high school graduation or drive her to college for her first semester. No one to walk her down the aisle if she ever wanted to get married.
So maybe, in the middle of the shock, she’d had a little glimmer of hope. After the last few days, she wanted to feel normal, to belong somewhere. She didn’t want to be related to that woman. Drunk or high, it didn’t matter. Living with her would be a nightmare.
She did not want to belong to Pam Sawyer. She was repulsive.
This was not how things were supposed to turn out.
What was she going to do?
Fear burst through her like an electric shock. After it passed, its absence left her limp and exhausted. She hadn’t slept. Had barely eaten. Wasn’t hungry. Her head spun. Her bones hurt. Emotions she was too tired to identify crushed together inside her, like too many people in a subway car. She could barely breathe.
Overwhelmed, she put her head on her crossed arms and closed her eyes. She couldn’t even cry. The people she’d believed were her parents weren’t. They hadn’t been anything like they’d said. They’d been crooks. They hadn’t bothered to make sure she was taken care of. They’d left her with no one.
They hadn’t loved her.
What was she supposed to do?
The reality that hit her, one more person squeezed into that subway car, was that she couldn’t do anything. She was trapped. The sheriff seemed to care, but what could she do?
Was Claire’s future one foster home after another until she turned eighteen? Crowded houses, sometimes with foster parents who cared, sometimes not. How many creepers would she have to fend off? And what would she do when she turned eighteen?
Claire had one other option. But using it wouldn’t be easy.
Did she have the guts?