She felt useless. Her mom had filled out all the sheets and sheets of paper, answered questions, made phone calls, done everything useful she could, but now she just sat, looking empty-eyed at a television playing in the corner of the waiting room. Claire kept bringing her magazines, and her mother glanced at them, thanked her, and put them aside.
It was awful.
Michael and Eve showed up a couple of hours later, bearing pizza, which by then was really welcome. Father Joe from the local Catholic church stopped in, too, and spoke to Claire's mother in private. They prayed, too. Claire wasn't in the habit, really, but she got up and joined them. Silently, her friends followed her, and it felt better having them with her. At the end, Michael crossed himself and hugged her, and Eve did, too. Shane just stayed with her, quiet and there.
Oliver showed up an hour later, and exchanged guarded nods with Father Joe; it looked like the two of them had one of those frenemy relationships that were so common in Morganville. Oliver didn't pray, at least not with the rest of them. He walked right over to Claire's mother and said, "Your daughter has rendered the town a great service. There will be no charge for whatever treatments your husband may need. If it goes beyond what the doctors feel they can treat here, I will personally sign the paperwork to allow him to be transferred to another, larger facility out of town. And should one or both of you decide not to return, we will not object."
That was . . . enormous, really. Claire sat, stunned, and just looked at him. He didn't so much as spare her a glance. His luminous eyes were fixed on her mom, and there was a strange kind of gentleness in the way he spoke.
"I don't know what to say," Claire's mom finally said. "I--Thank you."
"My word is also the Founder's word. Should you need anything, get word to me immediately. I'll ensure it's done." He hesitated, then said, "Your daughter is impressive. Difficult, but impressive. I do not know you or your husband well, but I expect that you must be equally impressive to have such a child."
Claire's mom raised her chin, looked him in the eyes, and said, "What about my daughter?"
Oliver didn't hesitate. "The offer doesn't extend to Claire. She must remain in Morganville."
"I'm not leaving her here alone."
"She's not alone," Oliver said. "We can hardly pry her from those who care for her even at gunpoint. And your daughter is no helpless child. You'll have to give her up to her own life, now or a year from now; what difference?"
Claire had never, ever seen her mother look like that--that focused, that fierce, that determined. Her mom put her arms around her, holding her in a tight, protective embrace. "I don't have to give her up to you," she said. "I know Claire's capable of being on her own; I've known that for a long time. But she's our child, now and always, and once my husband is better we'll be back for her. You can't keep her here forever."
Shane took in a small breath, and Claire felt her heart beat a little faster. No, Mom, don't. . . . But Oliver didn't seem to take it badly. He inclined his head just a fraction and said, "Perhaps not. Time will tell. But you must do the right thing for your husband, mistress. We will do the right thing for your daughter. For now."
He took her hand, shook it, and walked out without ever saying a word to Claire, or anyone else.
Michael said, "Anyone else think that's strange?"
"Well, I personally think it's awesome that he's letting them go, but strange? Not so much," Eve said. "Why shouldn't they leave? I mean, they shouldn't have really been here in the first place, right? Bishop moved them here, and then Amelie just didn't let them leave for her own reasons. They're not cut out for this town."
"Nobody's cut out for this town," Shane said. "Nobody sane, anyway."
"Says the kid who came back."
"Yeah, kind of proves my point."
Claire didn't say anything. She couldn't think what to say, actually. Yes, she'd wanted her parents out of this mess; it had been horrible when they'd been dragged into it in the first place, and not a day had gone by that she hadn't wished there were a way to smuggle them out to safety and get them a real life somewhere else.
But on the other hand, her mom and dad could be . . . leaving. And she wasn't going with them; she knew that. Even if she wanted to go, Amelie wouldn't let her go. That had already been made clear enough.
That her family might come back here, for her, when her dad was better--that was overwhelming and wrong. And, at the same time, weirdly comforting.
She and her mom didn't talk about it, not at all.
The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, and without anything in the way of excitement, or even new information. Claire fell asleep lying awkwardly in a chair, and woke up to find Shane draping a blanket around her. "Shh," he said. "Sleep. You still need it. I'll wake you up if anything happens."
She knew she shouldn't, but the past few days were crushing her hard, and she couldn't keep her eyes open, no matter how much she tried.
She woke up with a shock some time later--no idea when--to the sound of shouting voices.
Claire fought her way free of the blanket and stood, looking around for the danger, but there was nothing really visible in front of her. Oh, it was in the hall. She saw people running, including two security guards in full uniform, with guns.
"What the hell?" Michael had gotten up even faster than Claire. Shane and Eve were still trying to wake up from where they'd been dozing in their chairs.
Her mother was nowhere to be seen.
"It's in the hall," Claire said. Michael moved to the doorway and looked out, then shook his head.