Frail, she hums the starting melody of the song I wrote for her, then—broken—she sings the first few lines.
My heart quakes for her, surrounded in her spell.
Then, she alters the words in the chorus: “I’m the endless blue on a sunny day,
The golden moments you tuck away.
I’m the only thing in your field of view,
It’s me, just me.
And I will always loveyou.”
My heart stops altogether. And Ireallyneed to read her other journal. “Clara?” I whisper.
Sniffling, she lifts her face and meets my eyes.
“May I peek inside your other notebook?”
Her cheeks redden, and she shakes her head. “No.”
“Please?”
“It’s silly.”
“I love silly.”
“There’s…a calendar.”
“Hilarious. A calendar? Silliest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
Her lip juts. “It’s adays since incidentcalendar…”
My brows rise. “What manner of incidents are you tracking?”
Her gaze moves off me. “Assault.”
A…ssault?
She chews her cheek. “You’ll be happy to know there have been no incidents. Also, I might need more rabbit stickers.”
“Rabbit stickers?”
“Every day without incident gets a rabbit sticker.”
“I was wondering why your trauma rainbow seemed primarily frogs.” Sweeping back my hair, I ask, “Who…have you been afraid might assault you?”
Her big blue eyes flick to me, off me.
“Me?”
“If it helps,” she murmurs, “I’m not afraid anymore.”
I would certainly hope not.
She nestles in, refusing to meet my eyes. “I’m disturbingly eager now…”
Ah. My.Frick. Roughly, I clear my throat. “You don’t…say.”
