Page 81 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

“He tried but he didn’t ruin us,” she whispered.

“No, he didn’t.”

“He knew who I was.”

“Yes, he did.”

“We were scared of him as kids. We knew it was wrong but not how to fix it. We should have turned him in.”

“You still can. You have the power here, Clara.”

Her head tilted to the side. “You’re right. We should have. I didn’t get that as a kid but we’re not those scared girls anymore. And we’ve been ignoring it, burying it. He deserves to pay. To be registered as a sex offender at least. When we get home, I’ll talk to Aria. We’ll do what we can and then never think of him again.”

“Good for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and finally, her shoulders sagged. “I really hoped that he was dead.”

“Me too.” Without hesitating, I spun her toward me and hauled her into a hug, wrapping her in my arms and feeling her cheek press against my heart.

Clara snaked her hands around me, and as tightly as I held her, she clung to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said into her hair.

“They should have made a better plan. My parents. They let us down.”

I stayed quiet. My hatred was aimed at her uncle, but there was resentment for her parents too. Resentment I hadn’t understood as a teenager. Her mom and dad had let their daughters down by not having a better plan in case of their deaths.

Clara and Aria never should have been given to their uncle.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“You’re doing it.” She relaxed, giving me her weight.

The scent of orange and vanilla filled my nose as I rested my chin on her head. Having her in my embrace felt so familiar. So . .

. right.

I should let her go. Let her go.

I didn’t move.

“Do you still hug everyone goodbye?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why not me?” I remembered that so clearly from our time at the junkyard. Whether it had been in town when she’d go one way and I’d go the other, or even when she caught me at the junkyard before I’d leave for the day. Every goodbye had come with a hug. Most hellos too.

Until now. Last night, there’d been no hug.

Not once since she’d come to Elyria had she touched me.

Clara loosened her grip on me and slid her arms free. Then, too soon, she was gone and there was a gulf between us.

I’d asked the question.

But she didn’t answer.

We both knew the answer would only make this worse.