“I think that’s good,” Claire said. “Brave.”
“Yeah,” Reyva said. She then smiled one of her rare smiles. “Learned it from you two.”
Claire thought about her parents and what exactly she was going to tell them. What did they remember? What would they believe?At least I’m alive and safe and able to tell them anything, she thought.
The park ranger had informed their parents that they’d been found and rescued and were fine. And the second they were all checked out, clean, and fed (and their phones were charged again), they called their parents. Claire had never been so happy to hear her mom’s and dad’s voices in her life. She gave a shortened explanation of events.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Dad asked for the dozenth time.
“I don’t understand how this happened,” Mom said, muffled since they were both on speakerphone.
Claire hesitated. Here was the sticky part. She wasn’t sure how her parents were going to take it. She didn’t want to sound as if she was blaming them, but... theyhadsent her to a defunctcamp. And if the dead man had been telling the truth, it was their terrible choice that had doomed Arthur, whether they remembered it or not—which led to everything else that had happened to her and her friends. “Do you remember a boy named Arthur Benedict?”
“No,” Mom said. “I don’t...” Then she paused. “What was the name again?”
“Arthur Benedict. You forgot him,” Claire said. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
“Everyone has forgotten what they’ve forgotten,” Dad said jovially. “You just sit tight. We’ll be on our way in a jiffy.” It would be a many-hour drive from Connecticut, but that was okay. She could eat everything in the hospital cafeteria between now and then. Or they could venture out and find pizza. It was a tiny town, but it had to have pizza. She fantasized about that for a moment before she realized her parents were talking again.
And then: “Arthur Benedict,” her dad was musing. “It does sound familiar. Can’t think why, though.”
“Do you remember sneaking out of the camp one night and uncovering a cave?” Claire asked. “It was against the rules, but you did it anyway because you were fearless.”
They were silent.
“No, I don’t remember that,” Mom said. “We never... Or did we? Honey?”
They truly didn’t remember.He didn’t lie, she thought. It had been part of the dead man’s promise: to make her parents forget and allow them to have happy lives after that summer ended. Sheexhaled heavily, more relieved than she thought she’d be. She hadn’t liked thinking that her parents had sent their daughter to the Lake House knowing the danger. It was better that they’d genuinely forgotten and had instead responded to some deeply implanted compulsion, embedded without their knowledge or consent, dormant until their daughter was old enough to serve as a viable host.Okay, maybe that’s not “better,”Claire thought. She’d have hated to have her mind messed with. “Don’t worry. I’m sure—”
“Therewasa boy named Arthur,” Mom said. “Remember, honey? Red hair? He used to follow us around all the time. Called me ‘Sweet Julie.’”
Claire shivered.
“Whatever happened to him?” Mom asked.
“He left camp early,” Dad said. “Must’ve had some family thing.”
“Right,” Mom agreed.
But she didn’t sound certain.
Claire squeezed the phone, listening to her parents half remember. The truth was buried inside somewhere, repressed for all these years.This could have been me, she thought.
Her mom changed the subject. “Did you have any... episodes?”
Claire hesitated again, then said firmly and clearly, “Yes. But I handled it.”
“Oh, my sweetie—”
But Claire, for the first time in her life, cut her mother off. “Ihandled it,” she repeated. “It’s a part of me; it doesn’t define me. Or limit me. I’m—I’m fine. Like I am.”
In fact, so many of the things she’d thought of as flaws... weren’t. Okay, maybe they weren’t all strengths exactly—she wasn’t ready to gothatfar—but they were all part of who she was, which was, as Mariana had insisted, awesome.I am awesome and amazing, exactly as I am, she thought. And for the first time, she believed it.
She wasn’t going to hide anymore. Not from her parents. Not from her friends. And if she someday wanted, like Reyva, to talk to a doctor about her attacks, then she would. Either way, it didn’t mean she was anything less than capable, brave, and whole.
“I’m fine,” she told them.
Her parents were silent for a moment, and then her dad said, “We’re proud of you, Claire. And so very sorry for the mix-up with the camp. I really don’t understand how we could have made such a mistake.” Her mom echoed that, apologizing yet again.
