Chapter One

Nothing could really prepare a person to live in a tourist trap. Even if it was a lovely one, as lovely as December Harbor, it was hard to ignore the façade. Residents were bombarded by constant reminders that they lived in a town which existed mostly for other people to visit. The main streets were full of tacky souvenir shops and quaint inns catering to people drawn to the island, hoping to catch a glimpse of the killer whales that live next door in the Strait of Georgia.

The tourists came by ferry, private boat, planes, and small cruise ships. They boosted the island’s population by a few hundred for a few hours at a time, treating it like their own private playground while the permanent residents become background players in their own homes. They clogged the streets of downtown, wander into traffic, brought their obnoxious trucks and station wagons, turned quiet restaurants into crowded hotspots. They drove up along the coast to Sholeh Village and climbed onto boats to go whale-watching. They headed to the airport and rent a helicopter for sightseeing tours of the island and its surrounding archipelago.

Then, eventually, the weather cooled, and the infestation took care of itself. Once winter moved in, even the idyllic weather of Squire’s Isle turned cold and wet enough to dissuade even the hardiest of vacationers until only the true islands survived.

Deputy Claire Curran considered all of this as she sat behind the wheel of her cruiser with a cup of lukewarm coffee and counted the cars coming off the afternoon ferry. Only twelve today, not counting the service and delivery vehicles. She craned her neck to look at the overcast sky. The cloud cover was low enough to imitate fog. The air had a navy-blue sheen, and the shops on either side of Spring Street looked gilded by the light shining through their windows.

She didn’t miss the tourists. The crowds and the traffic, the noise of the sightseeing tour chopper zipping by overhead every ninety minutes or so. But she did have to admit the off-season could be very incredibly boring.

The radio chirped, and she traded the coffee for the handset. There was a short burst of static and then dispatcher Minnie Culpepper’s voice came over the speaker.

“Yoo-hoo, you out there listening, Car Two?”

Claire smiled. “I’m here, Min. What have you got for me?”

“Sheriff wants to talk with you. Nothing important, he just wants to make sure you’ll be back at the barn at four o’clock.”

“I was planning on it.” She looked at the time. “Is everything okay?”

Minnie said, “As far as I know, but you folks never tell me anything around here.”

“Because half the time you already know it.”

“That implies gossipry and snooping, and I’m going to hang up so you don’t hear how offended I am. Stay warm, Deputy Claire.”

“Tell Cal I’ll be there. And I’ll bring you some crullers when I come in.”

“I might forgive you.”

Claire chuckled quietly as she hung up the handset. Down the street, the ferry had finished unloading and was now being filled by cars heading back to the mainland. She’d spent her entire life landlocked, with Lake Michigan being the closest thing she’d ever seen to an ocean, but she’d been on Squire’s Isle long enough to know this rhythm. It was as regular and predictable as clockwork.

Tide comes in; tide goes out.

She finished her coffee, checked the time again, and decided to head in a little early. She was only two blocks from the station and could probably have jogged there as fast as driving, but the wind rocked the car and reminded her why that would be a very poor idea.

Besides, she’d promised Minnie some doughnuts.

***

The sheriff’s office shared a simple but sprawling yellow building with the courthouse, the two sides connected at the hip by the jailhouse. It was a simple, plain building, but Claire was fond of the station. It had a series of nine-paned windows facing the street and a stately clock tower separating the law from the order. It was just at the edge of the tourism district and marked the beginning of what she considered the town proper. It was here one might find banks, salons, and the random necessities for people who called the island home year-round.

She left the car in the back lot and went inside. The bullpen was a large single room with a row of glass-fronted offices along one wall. Six desks were in the center of the room, even though there were only three full-time officers on the payroll, and Claire went to the one she’d staked out as hers. She could see Sheriff Cal Rucker in his office, standing with a shoulder against the wall rather than seated at his desk.

Minnie was manning her post at the long counter separating the public area from the bullpen, but she spun in her seat to face Claire. No one had ever told her the woman’s age, but she’d seemed absolutely ancient when Claire joined the department. In the seven years since, she seemed to have somehow become younger and more energetic. Today she wore a thick black sweater with a strange white flower blooming from her left shoulder.

“I went ahead and marked you as off-duty.”

“Thanks, Min.” She nodded toward the sheriff. “Is he okay? He seems...”

“Maudlin? Yepper. He’s been real quiet all day. He’s barely said two words to me since he started his shift, and most of those were ‘be sure Deputy Curran stops by to talk to me before she ends her shift.’ So consider my job done, hon.”

Claire hummed under her breath and gave Minnie the bag of crullers she’d gotten from Coffee Table Books.

“You’re going to ruin my dinner.”

“I don’t think you’re complaining.”

Minnie shrugged and pulled out a doughnut as she spun her chair back around.

Claire crossed the room and knocked on Rucker’s door. He straightened, not startled, and turned slowly to face her. He held up a hand to motion her in with two fingers. His uniform was neatly-pressed as always, but there was a hint of grey-white stubble on his chin and at his temples. The top of his head was, as always, shiny and smooth.

“Anything exciting today?” he asked when she came into the office.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Gave a ticket to a guy for going forty-five in a twenty-five. There was a broken taillight this morning. It’s the nice and quiet season.”

Rucker made a quiet noise under his breath. Claire watched him and tried to read his body language.

“Is everything okay, Ruck?”

“Mm,” he said, looking down at his shoes. Finally, he looked up again. “We need to talk, Claire. Not here, though. Somewhere... uh... the city park. They have those bleachers. We can talk there.”

She gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “We can’t talk here?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Are you worried about Minnie gossiping?”

He looked past her and managed to chuckle. “Always. But no, I just think this is something we need to talk about away from this place.”

“Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so. Oh! No. No, I’m not... this isn’t...” He waved his hand. “I’m not firing you or anything like that.”

She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. “Okay, then.”

“Do you have the time? Is your wife expecting you to come home, or do you have plans or...”

“I have time for a conversation, Ruck. You obviously have something you need to get off your chest. So let’s go have a talk.”

He nodded and took his coat from the back of his chair. “Yeah. Okay, Claire. Let’s go have a talk.”

***

They took separate cars to the park so Claire could go directly home after their talk. She waited until the cruiser pulled out in front of her and followed him through town. The sky had grown darker while she was inside, and by the time they arrived at their destination, they had to rely on the security lights shining at either side of the block to see.

Rucker led her halfway up the bleachers, bent down to brush away any dirt or frost that might have accumulated on the metal, and took a seat with a low groan. Claire sat next to him and waited.

“Looks like snow, probably.”

Claire looked up at the sky. “Yeah, probably. Is that your years of wisdom speaking, or did you hear the forecast on the radio this morning like I did?”

He laughed softly, just a quick exhale of air through his nostrils. Ghostly-white smoke wafted around in front of his face before being carried away on the breeze.

“Probably the second one.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked out across the empty field. “I’m old, Claire. Getting older every day.”

“Ideally, that’s the way it works.”

“Sure, sure. But I’m old.” This time he put extra emphasis on the word. “I was old when I started this job, and that was a long, long time ago. So long ago that I’ve seen this entire island evolve into a completely different place. We were a conservative town. There were no rainbow flags in businesses, certainly no Pride parade on Spring Street. I was there when the change started; I saw it happening in real time.” He laughed and sat up straighter. “I never thought this town would ever have a woman as mayor, let alone one with a wife.”

He fell silent, but Claire waited. She knew Rucker supported the gay community on the island, so she wasn’t worried about where the conversation might lead, but she was definitely curious and confused. She was also freezing and eager to discover the purpose of this talk.

“Something’s coming. I’m not talking about the snow, or something you might have heard on the forecast. This is something else, and I don’t think I’m the person who should be in charge of protecting the island when it hits. And I also don’t want to step down without having a replacement I can trust ready to take over.”

“You can’t appoint anyone. There has to be an election...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “There will be an election, and I’ll say ‘you should vote for whoever,’ and everyone who used to vote for me will vote for that person instead. I’d really like for that person to be you, Claire.”

She sat up straighter and looked down at her hands. “Ruck, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I have to disagree.”

“I have a past.”

“We all have a past. Hell, I had a past when I first got the job. You’ve been the deputy here for six years. People know you. They trust you. They like you. They like you more than they like me. And to be honest, I was thinking about this day when you walked into my office and told me who you were and why you wanted a job.”

Claire said, “Randall has seniority. If anyone--”

“Randall would laugh in my face if I offered him the job. His first priority is his wife, and if he was sheriff, he wouldn’t be able to take extra vacation days for her doctor’s appointments. He’s happy right where he is.”

“You’ve already talked to him about this.”

“Of course. He has seniority.” He smiled at her. “It was all hypothetical, of course, but he was very emphatic in his support.”

She rubbed her hands together. “I have time to think about it, right? You’re not thinking about hanging your hat up tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, sure, sure...” He squinted into the distance and nodded slowly, unconvincingly. “Yeah. You should talk it over with Jodie. See what she has to say. But I think we both know her well enough to make a pretty good guess. Here’s the bottom line, Claire. I’m not going to be the sheriff here very much longer. Someone has to take over. It’s either going to be you or some stranger. Probably someone brought in from the mainland. I hate the idea of that. I know you do, too.”

He pushed himself up with a grunt. “Having our talk here was a very dumb idea. One more sign that I should have quit a long time ago.”

Claire stood next to him. “Is everything okay, Ruck? You didn’t get bad news from a check-up or anything like that.”

He laughed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “No, nothing like that. I promise. Just... getting my ducks in a row. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

She nodded uncertainly.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Do you want to come over? Jodie won’t be home yet, but I can whip you up something for dinner.”

Rucker shook his head. “No, no, I should get back to the office. Deal with some of that dreaded paperwork you’re going to be cursing about soon enough.”

“Something to look forward to.”

They walked to the parking lot together, splitting up to go to their own cars. When Claire pulled out of the parking lot, Rucker’s car was still parked in the spot where she’d left him. The security light cast an unnaturally bright beam through the windshield and cast him in the perfect silhouette. She couldn’t help but think of how vulnerable it made him look.

She bleeped her horn. His head lifted, he waved her away, and then started his car. Claire didn’t want him to think she was babysitting him, so she returned his wave and pulled out of the lot toward home.

***

Home had an actual white picket fence, though any attempts at a garden died in the very early stages. It was a split-level house on the fringes of the town proper, a short walk from the wild interior of the island. Rent was cheaper here, as if living near the woods was somehow worth less than having a water view. They had the occasional deer and rabbit visitor, but Claire considered that a bonus when the realtor first mentioned it.

The upper part of the house was blue shingles, the lower half white siding. Even now, having lived there for six years, a quiet voice said this is your home when her headlights swept across the front lawn. It was a vaguely alien feeling, even now, but she found it freeing rather than claustrophobic. She spent a long time looking for a home, and this was finer than any she could have dreamed up.

The windows were dark, as expected. She parked in front of the garage and let herself in through the side door. She unfastened her holster and returned her gun to the safe, unsure why she even bothered to carry it. She’d never even considered drawing it the entire time she’d been with the department, and Rucker admitted that his had probably only left the holster five times since he became sheriff. The island wasn’t that sort of place. Violent crimes didn’t happen. There were robberies, domestic assaults, but she honestly couldn’t imagine a scenario that would be improved by being armed.

Maybe that was something she’d change when she was sheriff. If she became sheriff. No. Of course she was going to accept his offer.

Wasn’t she?

The thought risked sending her mind in a million different directions, so she changed out of her uniform into a T-shirt and pajama pants, then went into the kitchen to start dinner.

Cooking was a hobby that caught her by surprise. She was used to apartments and small utilitarian kitchens, so takeout was a necessity she’d fallen back on more nights than not. Now she had a full stove, an actual oven, what seemed like acres of counter space, and all kinds of tools and utensils. It seemed wasteful to just let such a big part of their house go unused, so she started exploring.

“Just because you have a home doesn’t mean you have to go full domestic,” her wife had teased when the first meals began filling up the fridge.

“Just because I cook multiple portions doesn’t mean I have to give you some.”

Jodie surrendered at that threat, and since then, cooking had become Claire’s meditation at the end of the day. She looked in the fridge and gauged what was on hand and how much time she had before Jodie showed up, then began gathering her materials. She made a mixture of Parmesan, salt, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, and black pepper, coated pork chops with it, and put them in the air fryer. While it cooked, she sliced zucchini and put the rounds on a baking sheet before dressing them with the excess Parmesan mixture and popped them into the oven.

The food was nearly finished when Jodie pulled into the driveway. She breezed into the house a few minutes later, gasping deeply as she crossed the threshold as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time she was gone. Jodie’s new shorter hairstyle still made Claire smile. The discovery of gray at her temples had prompted drastic measures: a pair of shears and a new ‘do that made her look like James Dean. Claire immediately liked the look, and she’d liked the gray, and she had a feeling she would approve of whatever the next change might be.

Jodie pushed the door shut and returned the smile Claire gave her. “House smells like heaven as usual.” She unzipped her jacket and stowed it in the closet. “What’s on the menu?”

“Parmesan pork chops with zucchini rounds.”

“You’re too good to me. I’m so glad I married you before I found out you could cook. Now you know it’s really love and I’m not just after your culinary skills.”

Claire said, “It’s not why you married me, but it’s a big part of why you stay.”

“The sex is good, too,” Jodie said as she came into the kitchen.

“What do you mean ‘good’?”

Jodie wrapped her arms around Claire and kissed her hello. “I save my really effusive praise for when I’m in the moment.”

Claire grinned. “Yes ma’am, you certainly do.”

Jodie slipped out of the embrace and went to the sink. She rolled up her sleeves and began washing up.

“Good day?” Claire asked.

“Fine day,” Jodie said. “I was over at Kevin’s. He was having trouble with his washer and dryer, so he let me watch him fix it.”

“Did you learn anything useful?”

“Oh yeah. I can take apart a washer and put it back together now. I’m not entirely sure it will work afterward. But if it starts screwing up, I think I know enough to save us a maintenance call. You’d be amazed how often the answer is to unplug it and plug it back in again.”

Claire grinned. “The answer to so many of life’s problems.”

“What about you? How was your day?”

Claire honestly wasn’t sure if she should tell the whole truth. As far as she knew, Rucker was speaking in hypotheticals about something months in the future. Then again, she and Jodie had never kept anything this big from each other. Jodie dried her hands and set the table. Claire served up their dinner and took a seat across from Jodie.

“Rucker wanted to have a chat with me after I got off-duty.”

“Oh, Claire, no. Are you in trouble? Did you get detention?”

Claire smiled. “It sort of felt that way, to be honest. But actually, he wanted to have a conversation about the future. Apparently, he’s thinking about retiring.”

Jodie’s fork froze on the way to her mouth, her eyes unblinking. Claire loved Jodie’s eyes; they were multicolored, blue and green, and she’d never seen anything so beautiful. They were Jodie’s own personal Northern Lights, and Claire felt honored to look into them at private moments like this.

“Well...?” Jodie prompted.

“Apparently the job is mine if I want it.”

Jodie dropped her fork and stood up, leaning across the table to kiss Claire. “Congratulations! That is huge. That is... so, so amazing, Claire. Wow. You’re going to be a great sheriff.”

“It’s not a done deal,” Claire reminded her. “Hypothetical. At some future point, when he decides to retire.”

Jodie settled back in her seat. “Not to be rude, honey, but it can’t be that far off.”

Claire grimaced. “He’s not that old.”

Jodie said, “Honey.”

Claire conceded the point, albeit reluctantly. “But the question remains if I’m the right person to take over for him.”

“Who else would it be? Why not you?”

“Because of who I am.”

Jodie looked confused, then understood. “Because of your past? Your past is what makes you the perfect person for the job. You never did anything wrong. You helped people even when it put you in danger. You saved my life.” She reached across the table and Claire met her halfway, taking her hand. “I know the main reason you took my name when we got married was to put distance between yourself and the past. But you’re still the same person you were, and the people of this island would be lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

Claire shrugged.

“Besides, the people who matter already know who you are. Ruck, the mayor, the other officers. If they don’t care, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Maybe I should take the job, but do an interview with the paper so everyone knows exactly who they’re getting.”

Jodie said, “Maybe. I don’t think it would change anyone’s minds to know you’re a hero, but if it helps you sleep better...”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Hero...”

“My hero.”

Claire chuckled. “Eat.”

Jodie winked at her and focused on her food.

***

After dinner, after watching a TV show on Jodie’s laptop, and showering, Claire came out of the bedroom to find Jodie lying seductively across the bed, head propped up on one hand, her nightshirt pulled up to show the full curve of her leg. Claire paused in the bathroom doorway to appreciate the sight before she turned off the light and came closer.

“What’s the occasion, Mrs. Curran?”

“I believe my wife told me she’s in line to get a very nice promotion, and in my experience, that is worthy of sexual gratification.”

Claire plucked at the gym shorts she was wearing. “Well, obviously, that’s why I wore my finest lingerie.” She got into bed and pulled Jodie to her. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get in good with the next sheriff so you can start your life of crime?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a bad girl,” Jodie said, her mouth already on Claire’s lips before she finished speaking.

Claire rolled onto her back and Jodie straddled her, resting her hands on the headboard as Claire kissed her chest through the thin cotton of her shirt. Claire put her arms around Jodie and closed her eyes, enjoying the weight and smell of her. Jodie had showered first, but she still smelled of soap and her skin was just slightly damp. She pulled the shirt out of her way so she could taste it. Jodie shivered at the touch of her tongue and began tugging at Claire’s clothes.

Jodie moved her head down and pressed kisses to Claire’s hair, moving until she found her ear. Claire writhed and pulled Jodie closer, lifting her hips to press herself against Jodie’s thigh.

“I love you, Claire.”

Claire turned her head and kissed Jodie’s cheek. Jodie turned her head and their lips found each other in an eager kiss.

There had been a time when she hated being called by her first name. She went by her last name, until that gained an uncomfortable amount of weight. Jodie was only the second person to regularly call her Claire, third if she counted her mother. There were times when it still sounded strange hearing it from other people, but it never felt anything but right coming from Jodie.

“I want you to use your hand on me,” Jodie said breathlessly.

“Like this?”

Jodie whimpered and put her head down on Claire’s shoulder, murmuring her approval. The bed creaked under them, and Jodie put one hand back against the headboard to keep it steady.

“Love you.”

“I love you,” Claire said, timing her response so it came mid-orgasm. Jodie nuzzled Claire’s neck until she was capable of moving her lips up to suck on a spot she knew to be particularly tender. Claire closed her eyes and took Jodie’s hand, put it between her legs, and they worked together with quiet, whispered encouragements until Claire came as well.

Afterward, Jodie settled on top of Claire to catch her breath. Claire held her and, after a few minutes of lying in the dark, moved her hand up to the scruff at the base of Jodie’s skull and scratched.

“Hey. You planning to sleep like this?”

“You complaining?” Jodie mumbled. “Got somewhere to be?”

Claire decided she didn’t.

She didn’t necessarily fall asleep, but she spent close to an hour drifting in and out of wakefulness before her phone rang and woke her completely. Jodie made a noise of disgruntlement and rolled to one side, moving just enough to free Claire and get under the blankets as Claire reached for the chirping monstrosity on the nightstand. The first glance blinded her, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand before she attempted reading the screen again.

“Fruthink uh kay,” Jodie asked, the result of trying to ask everything okay while her face was buried in the pillow.

“Car accident out by the airport,” Claire said. “Fatality.”

“Oh no.” Jodie was slightly more awake now. She reached up and dragged her fingers down Claire’s spine. “Be safe.”

Claire turned and bent down to kiss Jodie. “I will. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Claire put her uniform back on. She was the one who usually got these late-night calls, since there was always a chance Randall was taking care of his sick wife. She realized that Rucker had stopped taking them a few years ago because it took him longer to get out of bed and get to wherever he needed to be. The police weren’t called out in the middle of the night very often, but it suddenly seemed strange that she was the only officer who could be counted on to show up if something happened after midnight.

As much as she loved Rucker, it was starting to become clearer that maybe it really was time for him to pass the torch.

She looked at the bed to see Jodie was already asleep again. She took a few extra seconds to appreciate the view, reminded herself of the accident’s location, and headed out into the night.

***

It was below freezing, and the cruiser’s heater took nearly the entire drive to make the car bearable. She was in her heavy jacket and gloves but she was worried she would be shivering when she arrived at the scene. It was technically outside the city limits, but it was still in her jurisdiction. The town fell away quickly, the buildings giving way to the dark of the woods, but soon enough she saw a bloom of light up ahead.

The vehicle was off the road, caught in the crossed beams of two portable lights on tripods. Claire’s view of the car was blocked by the fire chief’s truck, which she parked behind. Two firefighters stood at the driver-side door. The chief herself, Alexandra Crawford, jogged along the side of the road toward her as she got out of the car.

“Morning, Alex,” Claire said.

“Claire, wait.” She held out her hands. “We didn’t know when we texted. It’s Ruck.”

Claire’s brain was still fogged enough from sleep that she didn’t understand. “What’s Ruck?”

“The driver,” Alex said. “I’m so sorry, Claire, but he didn’t make it.”

“Didn’t...”

She finally looked past Alex and recognized the wreck. It was Ruck’s personal vehicle, the front end crushed and still smoking. The windshield was covered with a web of cracks. She could see a body slumped over the steering wheel. His bloody head was turned away toward the passenger side, but she knew Rucker well enough to recognize him.

She tried to rush the scene, but Alex held out her arms and blocked her. Alex was a bit shorter than Claire, but broader in the shoulders and strong enough that trying to get past her would be a waste of effort. Claire rocked back on her feet, completely awake and struggling to keep herself from slipping into shock.

“What... wh-what’s the... how...”

“We don’t know. We got a 911 call from a hunter who reported a burning car. It had mostly gone out by the time we arrived. It didn’t spread very far. It looks like it was contained to the engine. But Claire, he’s gone.”

“You don’t know that, you didn’t even take him out of the car...”

“Claire.” Alex’s grip tightened on her shoulders, keeping her in place. “He was gone when we arrived. There’s damage to his head, Claire.”

“I just left him.”

“I know. Look, there’s nothing for you to do here. You shouldn’t work the scene. Why don’t you just let us take care of it.”

She didn’t have the energy to fight, so she just nodded. She put her hand on Alex’s arm. “Take care of him,” she said.

“Absolutely.” She twisted and called out to one of the firefighters at the car. The woman jogged over. “Shireen. Can you make sure Claire gets home? You know where she lives?” To Claire, she said, “You’re on Argyle, right?”

For a moment, Claire couldn’t make sense of the question. “Oh. Yeah, yes. Yeah.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Alex said again. “You just take care of yourself.” To Shireen, she said, “Argyle isn’t that far from the station. When you drop her off, you can walk over and call it a night. Walt and I can carry on here.”

“Yeah, boss,” Shireen said.

Shireen put an arm around Claire’s shoulders and guided her back to the car. Claire managed to hand over the keys and sleepwalked to the passenger side. She was barely aware they were moving until the bright accident scene rolled away to be replaced by darkness. She closed her eyes and saw the afterimage burned in her mind, like it had been etched there.

“I didn’t know him very well,” Shireen said. “He seemed... I-I thought he was a good man.”

“He was,” Claire said quietly.

Shireen didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. She made sure Claire got into the house okay, returned her keys, and headed out into the night. Claire felt bad about making the woman walk back to the station, even though it was really only a block away, but she wasn’t capable of offering any assistance at the moment.

She left the lights off and moved through the house by memory. She went into the kitchen, where the dishes from dinner were waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. She opened the fridge, uncertain what she was looking for, and finally pushed the door shut to cast the kitchen back into darkness. She turned in a circle and looked around. The moon was shining through the window, and everything in the house looked either blue, black, or gray.

“Claire?” The hall light came on and Jodie appeared. She was still in her nightshirt. “Hon? I thought I heard you leave. Are you already done or is this a dream?”

Claire knew this moment wasn’t a dream, and the thought of admitting it was reality finally broke her. She sobbed, then sagged against the counter, stopping herself from a full collapse by pressing her hands flat against the granite. Her arms were trembling. She sobbed again, and this time tears came with the sound.

“God, Claire...” Jodie’s arms were suddenly around her. She guided Claire to the floor, then pulled her closer and began to stroke her hair. “I’m here. I’m right here, baby. What happened?”

Claire had no idea when she would be able to answer that question, so she just cried and let herself be held.