Claire flushed the toilet, washed her hands, then stared at her reflection in the mirror. Despite the vitamins, her face was the color of wet ash and dark purple crescents hung below her eyes. She didn’t look like herself. I need some sun. She also needed to put on a little more weight - what she had gained before the accident had dropped off, and then some. When she heard Jason reenter the bedroom, she grabbed her crutches and stumped from the bathroom, then sat on the bed. The stricken look on his face said it all. Claire felt a surge of relief. “Well, did I tell you she was crazy, or did I tell you she was crazy?” His eyes searched her face, and he gave a small, uncertain shrug. “Claire,” he said. “I don’t know what I was supposed to be looking for, but nothing was out of the ordinary.” An anvil dropped into the pit of her stomach, cold and steely. “Did you look at my father?” “He was sleeping like a baby.” “But did you look at him?” Rage bubbled within her.
