Page 35

Claire watchedDana tap her cracked cuticles against the steering wheel impatiently as they made slow progress in D.C.’s morning commuter traffic. Her mentor’s fingers were always the first to pay the price when she was stressed. Claire had a sneaking suspicion Jake was the reason the nervous habit had returned. It was kind of cute the way they thought they were being sneaky. But anyone with eyes could see how into each other they were.

Watching them in the kitchen this morning had been like witnessing two teenagers trying to keep their PDA under wraps in the classroom. Claire might not have been part of the popular crowd in school, but she was an excellent observer, and she could spot a secret from miles away.

She had to admit, it bothered her a little. Not that they were together. She didn’t care about that. But it was a little insulting that they felt they needed to hide whatever they were to each other from her.

Did they think she was so emotionally fragile that she wouldn’t be able to be happy for them just because her own life was surrounded by sorrow?

Dana slammed on the brakes, punching the horn at the car that had just swerved into her lane.

“Picked up some of Jake’s habits I see,” Claire teased.

“What?”

She gestured to the bumper-to-bumper traffic. “Road rage is usually his thing.”

“Oh … right,” Dana replied, immediately fretting at her thumbnail again.

Claire fought a smirk. It was kind of fun watching the perfect Dr. Dana Gray squirm. But she didn’t want to torture her mentor. They’d been through a lot in the past two years. Claire’s addiction and entanglement in the Card Killer case had strained their relationship, but in the end, Dana had stood by Claire. She was the one who always showed up. Not her parents.

Claire knew they’d been called after the incident at Passages, but she wasn’t holding her breath for them to contact her. They’d made it clear they’d washed their hands of their “death-obsessed” daughter long ago. The truth was, Dana and Jake were all she had.

And if they had each other now, she’d try to be happy for them. She was about to say so when Dana pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot.

“We’re here,” she announced, parking in front of a towering limestone cathedral.

With St. Ann’s looming in front of Claire, all thoughts of her friends’ budding relationship faded away. Claire’s skin prickled with nervous excitement the way it always did before her group therapy sessions. The prospect of better understanding herself was thrilling to Claire. And she especially enjoyed knowing she wasn’t alone when it came to disturbing thoughts.

Some of the things the others shared were horrible and haunting, but they gave her hope that she could climb her way back out of the crippling depression and addiction that had almost swallowed her whole.

“You ready?” Dana asked.

She nodded and opened the passenger door, leaning into the blustery morning air.

Inside, Claire searched the crowd for familiar faces. A sudden pang hit her square in the chest when she realized she was looking for a face that wouldn’t be there.

Congressman Hayes had been someone who’d given more hope than anyone else. She’d seen the darkness inside him. It reached out to hers like a twin flame. They hadn’t spent too much time together, but he was someone who’d truly seen her and hadn’t looked away.

She’d known that their acquaintance would be brief, but still, she was unprepared for the pain of parting this way.

Continuing to observe the group of people milling about the cavernous rectory attached to the church, Claire’s unease grew when she realized there was another missing face in this crowd.

Max, where are you?

He was the real reason Claire had been eager to show up today, but he was nowhere to be found. She was straining to see over the group when she spotted a wave of blood red hair streaking toward her. “Betty!”