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“Claire, you’re okay now,” he cries.
Why is he crying?
He’s reaching for me.
“You’re going to hurt Mama,” I sob.
His hand is on my shoulder.
He’s going to kill me.
I break.
I scream like Hannah.
Where’s Mama?
There’s another roar in the distance. “Get the fuck away from her.”
Papa jumps back, fear in his eyes.
It’s like mine.
I can’t breathe again.
“Claire?” Jake is here.
He looks dirty, and his skin is red, but he’s alive.
He coughs. It sounds painful.
“Are you hurt?” I ask. He shakes his head. He’s okay. “Where is he?”
I don’t want Hannah to see him again.
He’ll take her away.
Jake bends, casting his eyes to the grass for a moment, but he doesn’t answer.
What did he do?
“Jake?” I plead.
“It was too late.”
Now he can’t hurt Hannah anymore.
That’s good, right?
Jake reaches out to touch me but stops. “Can I touch you, baby?” He’s whispering.
I like that he whispers because everything else is so loud.
I nod.
I’m tired.
Hannah isn’t screaming.
