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He can’t hear her.
Please, baby girl, go back in the room. Put your headphones on and dance.
“Daddy,” she wails.
There’s no flicker in his eyes.
He’s determined.
No morealmost.
Hannah screams and screams because that’s all she can do.
I’m sorry, Hannah.
My legs jerk, blood from where I tore at his skin staining my blue dress, and I take one last desperate attempt to inhale, but it’s choked, breaking through the air in nothing but a wheeze. The blood in my mouth pools in the back of my throat.
The sound only makes him tighten his grip.
Everything burns.
I don’t want to die this way.
As my eyes flutter closed and the fight drains from my body, I want to see Jake. I want the comfort his eyes bring.
But I only see myself.
Even in death, my father’s eyes haunt me.
Silly, Claire. You can’t change history. It’s always destined to repeat itself.
It doesn’t burn anymore.
Giving up, I let the warmth encompass every nerve because she shouldn’t have to witness the struggle.
“You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
“Smile for me, baby.”
“I haven’t wished for the world to stop spinning since the day you walked into my office.”
“This cold heart has started beating again for you.”
“Keep playing. You’re beautiful when you play.”
With Jake’s voice, peace washes over me.
But there’s one more voice, and with this one, I know I’m home.
“You’re going to change the world someday, Claire Russell.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
You need to go back, Claire.
You need to take care of our boys.
***
