Kitabı oku: «Always a Mother», sayfa 3

As Dean walked toward her, she scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Sarah?” she asked.

“Mom’s with her.”

“You always do that—call Bunny. Sarah is your responsibility, not your mother’s.”

He frowned. “I had to find you.”

Claire whirled away. “I can’t do this. I can’t have another baby. As soon as Sarah was better, I was planning to enroll for classes. Now…”

“What are you saying?”

She faced him. “I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. I…”

“I’m sorry you’re pregnant.” For the first time he seemed angry. “But you’re the one who forgot to take the pill.”

“Why is that my responsibility?”

He jammed both hands through his hair. “I don’t know. It just is.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be, because I’m lousy at it.”

His mouth twitched. “Honey…” He reached for her.

She backed away. “Don’t touch me. I can’t think when you do that.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. “I just want to feel happy again.”

“Claire, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her and she sagged against him. “I’m sorry life has been so hard.”

“I know.” She looked into his blue eyes. “Undo my bow.”

“What?”

“Undo my bow.”

Frowning, he yanked the ribbon that held back her blond hair, and it tumbled to her shoulders. She spun and took off running across the grass, her hair flying behind her. He caught her in less than ten seconds. Laughing, they whirled around as a light rain began to fall. They hardly noticed as they slowly began to dance, locked in each other’s arms. Raindrops pelted their heads, but they didn’t mind. They were young and in love and remembering how wonderful that felt.

“I love it when we dance—even without music,” he said, kissing her face.

The scent of rain mingled with the smell of him, and her heart brimmed with happiness. She’d lost it for a moment. “Me, too. I love you.”

He stopped moving and cupped her face, his thumbs making wet circles on her cheeks. “I love you with all my heart.”

She smiled, blinking in the rain. “We’re having another baby,” she whispered, feeling his love—the love that made her happy and complete.

“Yes.” He kissed her softly. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

DEAN DROVE UP to the lake house and saw Claire’s car. She was here. The heat of the day had subsided and a sticky warmth prevailed. But it was fresh, not contaminated with gas fumes or other foul city emissions.

He could barely see the house in the darkness, but he knew exactly what it looked like—brown cedar Hardiplanks with a wood deck on the front and the back. The interior was small, with two bedrooms, one bath and a combination kitchen and large den that overlooked the lake.

It had taken every resource they had to swing buying the place. Claire had made another sacrifice. She’d put off going to college so they could afford two house payments. He didn’t want her to, but Claire had insisted. That’s the way she was—always putting her family first.

The girls loved it here, but he wondered how often they’d come back now. Sarah was very studious, like her mother. She was doing an internship in law. Soon she’d take the bar. Samantha was more like him—an athlete. Tennis was her sport, and she was very good, an ace player in high school and college. She would now be teaching physical education and coaching tennis.

Memories swirled around him. He’d wanted to give Claire the world, but he’d busted up his leg in his senior year, and although it had healed, he knew he had to think about her and the girls. He had to be home for them, so he forgot his dream of playing pro football and took a job teaching and coaching.

He was now the head coach and athletic director at a high school. The last four years he’d been building a great team, and if everything fell into place as he’d planned, they were going to win the state championship again this year. Football was in his blood and probably always would be.

Just as Claire was.

Through the window, he could see her sitting on the sofa, the letters strewn around her. At forty-three she still looked beautiful, a gorgeous blonde with soft brown eyes. She had a kind heart and a sweet nature. That’s probably what he loved most about her. And she made him feel young, powerful and all male. Her breasts were fuller now, as were her hips, and she could still heat him up just as quickly as she had back then.

Back then…they’d been through so much. But in truth Claire had been through so much more than him.

December 26, 1984

CHRISTMAS WAS MEAGER at their house. He’d given Claire earrings and she’d bought him a pullover sweater. They’d spent the day at Bunny’s. Sarah was struggling to breathe and wanted only Claire to hold her. Dean took care of Sami, but he couldn’t nurse her, so he had to hand the baby to her, too. Claire was exhausted and he became more aware of that than ever, maybe because he was with them the whole day.

The next day he started practice for the upcoming bowl game. That evening when he came home, Claire was sitting on the living room floor nursing Sami in one arm while Sarah nestled into her side with a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, taking a treatment. Claire’s hair hung limply around her shoulders, sour milk stained her blouse and she looked as tired as he’d ever seen her.

He quickly sank down by her and took Sarah and finished the treatment. As he held his little girl, patting her back, she went to sleep. He carried her into their bedroom and laid her in her crib.

The apartment was cramped, with one bedroom, a living area and kitchen combination, and a small bathroom. He and Claire had a crib on each side of their bed, and that was a problem. She wasn’t getting any sleep.

As he returned to the living room, he saw Sami was through nursing. He scooped her out of her mother’s arms and burped her.

Claire’s head fell back against the cushions. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

Dean carried Sami to her crib and within minutes she was asleep. After partially closing the door, he went back to Claire. He gathered her into his arms and placed her on the sofa.

Kissing her gently, he said, “Just go to sleep, honey.” He reached for an afghan and covered her.

She snuggled into the cushions. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t.”

He turned off the lights and watched her for a moment before he made his way to the bedroom and closed the door. Both babies awoke during the night. He changed them, and gave Sarah a bottle after which she went back to sleep. But Sami was different. He carried her to Claire, who nursed her without really waking up.

Early the next morning he got up, made breakfast, then took it to Claire on a tray.

She stirred, glanced around and quickly sat up. “Where are the girls?”

“Asleep.”

She yawned. “What time is it?”

“About six.”

Her eyes went wide. “You let me sleep all night?”

“Yep. And here’s breakfast.” He pointed to the tray. “Scrambled eggs, toast and your favorite orange marmalade.”

“Oh, my. I feel like a queen.”

He sat beside her and took her into his arms. “You’re my queen.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You have practice today and I know you had to get up with the girls.”

“I can go on very little sleep.” He kissed the side of her face. “Football season will be over in a week, and classes won’t start for a couple more weeks. I’ll be here to help out more.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

He just held her and stared at the small Christmas tree they’d positioned on an end table. They had to put it up high because Sarah was walking and she’d pull it over in no time. Claire had decorated it with red bows and shiny balls, along with their special first Christmas ornament and this year’s new ornament. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Staring at the sparse tree, he vowed one day he would give her everything.

But “one day” always seemed to be out of his reach.

DEAN CONTINUED TO WATCH Claire through the window, and as he did, a frisson of fear shot through him. Why was she reading the letters? Could it just be nerves? Or was it something more? Suddenly he had to know.

He opened the door and stepped in.

“DEAN.” Claire wasn’t expecting him, and for a moment she was speechless.

“I was worried about you.” He moved some letters and sat beside her, kissing her cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm. How did you know where to find me?”

“A lucky guess.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and her heart contracted. He was so handsome. Threads of gray shone in his dark hair and his features were leaner, more mature. She loved him so much, but how were they going to get through this? How was she going to tell him?

“You didn’t have to come. I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air.” It was the first time she’d lied to him.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I’m not sure.” She bit her lip to keep from telling another lie. “Did you get Bunny settled?”

“Yes. She’s all moved in.”

“She should be living with us. We have room.” When Dean had gotten a job teaching, they’d bought their first house. Claire loved the older homes on the tree-lined boulevards in the old Tarrytown area near the heart of central Austin, so they’d bought a two-story Victorian that had been built in the early 1900s. After they renovated, it was the perfect home, roomy and with lots of character. They still lived there.

Dean shrugged. “You know how Mom is. She likes her independence. And she said we need some time alone. We’ve never had that.”

“Mmm.” Claire glanced at the letters, feeling her chest close up. It wasn’t going to happen now, either. How did she tell him that once again she’d screwed up? Although she wasn’t sure why she was blaming herself. Dean was involved, too.

He followed her glance. “Why are you reading the letters?”

She swallowed. “To remember—the good and the bad. To remember dreams that don’t come true.”

“Claire, your dream is coming true.”

“I…” Her throat locked because of what she had to say.

“I know you’re nervous about college, about attending classes with students younger than your daughters. You’ll be fine, though.”

“Don’t try to pacify me.” The words came out angry, though she didn’t mean them to.

There was silence—a strained silence, which was rare. They could always talk about anything. But now…

Dean pulled her into his arms and she snuggled against him. “What’s going on, Claire? Why did you just leave like that?”

“I wanted some time to think. That’s all.” Lazily, she drew circles on his T-shirt. She had to tell him.

“About what?”

She drew back and slowly raised her eyes to his. “I’m pregnant.”

There was a noticeable pause.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pregnant.”

He gave a fake laugh. “No. No way.”

“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Remember Cancun and I forgot my diaphragm so we used a condom? Guess what? It didn’t work—again.”

He sprang to his feet. “It’s just nerves. You can’t be pregnant.”

She held up the letters. “I remember thinking that twice before.”

“I refuse to believe it. You’ve been on an emotional high getting ready for college. That’s all it is.”

“I know when I’m pregnant.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No.”

“Well, then…”

“You can keep batting excuses through the air, but it’s not going to change a thing. I’m pregnant.”

As the words finally sank in, he closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “Oh, God, not again. Not now.”

“That’s why I wanted this time alone, to think about what to do.”

His eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”

“I have choices.”

“You mean…”

“I don’t know what I mean. I’m trying to accept this, trying to let go of that foolish college dream. But right now I’m stuck in anger mode. This time I want to take the easy way out and I can’t even believe…”

“What can’t you believe?”

She licked her dry lips, knowing she had to tell him what she’d done. “This morning when I realized what was wrong with me, I bought a pregnancy test. It confirmed what I suspected.” She swallowed. “Then I…I drove to the Planned Parenthood Clinic. I’m a woman. I have rights. And I wasn’t letting my dream slip away again. All I could think about was myself.”

“And?”

“I sat in the car praying for strength, and suddenly it felt like God slapped me in the face. I was thinking about killing our baby without even talking to you. I can’t believe I did such a thing.”

“Claire, honey.” He moved toward her.

“No. Don’t come near me or I might strangle you.”

He paled.

“I’m sorry. I have to sort through everything I’m feeling…alone.”

“But you’re not in this alone. It’s my child, too.”

She looked directly at him. “Yes, but your forty-three-year-old body will not be giving birth. Your dream will not be snatched from you again.”

“You can still go to college and be pregnant. A woman can do it all.”

“I don’t want someone else raising my child.”

“I’ll help.”

“Football practice has already started and your time at home is limited. That limits your help, too. And you’re hoping to get a college coaching job.”

“I’ll turn it down.”

She groaned. “Oh, yeah, guilt is just what I need.”

“Claire…”

“I’m the mother. I’m the one who will do all the work, the one to make all the sacrifices.”

“I made sacrifices, too. I gave up a pro football career.”

“You didn’t give it up. You injured your knee.”

“I still had offers.”

“What?” The color drained from her face. “You weren’t taken in the draft and you never mentioned any offers.”

“Because I knew it was time for me to be at home for you and the girls.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You kept it from me? Did you think I was so weak that I couldn’t take the news?”

“You’re the strongest woman I know and it was so long ago I don’t know why we’re talking about it.”

“Because you kept it from me as if I was some dependent, fragile wife who needed you at home.”

“Claire, I turned it down for two reasons.” He held up one finger. “I wanted to be home.” He held up another finger. “Because of my injury I would have been second string, and that wasn’t acceptable to me.”

She glanced down at her hands, some of her anger leaving her. “That must have hurt.”

“Not really. I had to put my family first.” He took another step toward her. “Honey, we can work this out.”

“Probably,” she said. “But I need some time to accept the pregnancy graciously and with love—the same deep love with which I accepted Sarah and Sami.” She wasn’t sure why she was fighting for time or why she was arguing with Dean. Maybe she blamed him. She needed to come to terms with that, too.

“So what are you actually saying?”

“I’m saying you go home and I’ll stay here.”

He paled even more. “You want us to separate?”

“Yes. For now. College starts in ten days and by then I’ll know if I’m going to go or not.”

“I don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.”

“I don’t either. All I know is that I have to keep remembering, reading the letters to experience that deep well of commitment and love I had then. I have to let go of the dream with dignity and not blame it on a precious, innocent baby.” She blinked back a tear. “We’ll be in our sixties when this child graduates from high school. Can you handle that? I’m not sure I can.”

“Claire…”

“I’m just being honest, and I hate myself for the selfish things I’m thinking. At this moment I hate everything.”

He swallowed visibly. “Do you hate me?”

She looked at him. “I’ve loved you forever. I love your smile, your kind heart, your compassion and caring, even the gray in your hair. I love everything about you, but I’m not feeling any of that love right now.”

“You will. The Claire I love can deal with anything.”

“Maybe this is the one thing she can’t.”

“I’ll never believe that.”

“Dean.” She sighed. “Go home and let me sort through this.”

“We’ve never been apart.”

“Yes, we have. It just never felt like it.”

He blew out a hard breath. “I don’t guess I have a choice.”

“No.”

He pointed to the letters. “Read every one of those and you’ll feel our love again. We can overcome anything, even having a child at our age.” He leaned over and kissed her lips. She breathed in his scent and forced herself not to respond.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

“No, don’t. I’ll phone when I’m ready to talk.”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Dean,” she called as he turned away. He quickly glanced at her. “Please cancel our plans for tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Tell Nita and Joan I’ll call them later.” She was passing the buck, but she couldn’t handle a conversation with anyone.

He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” Slowly, he walked out of the lake house.

She wanted to call him back, but that wouldn’t solve anything. As the door closed, she knew their lives were changing, and she didn’t feel it was for the better.

They loved each other. There was no doubt in her mind about that. To save her marriage she had to feel that forever kind of love she’d felt at eighteen.

How did she do that when she felt empty, afraid and lost within herself? There was only one thing she knew to do.

She picked up a letter.

CHAPTER FOUR

November 26, 1986

BUNNY INSISTED on watching the girls so Claire could make one of the home games. She sat in the stadium, her eyes on her husband. To her he was the best player on the field. She stood and cheered when he caught the ball. She bit her nails when it seemed to go right through his hands.

Suddenly a crashing tackle left him lying on the turf, writhing in pain, his leg bent at a strange angle. Jumping to her feet, she made her way to the field, her heart thumping so hard it was about to pound out of her chest.

As she reached the sidelines, an official stopped her.

“That’s my husband,” she cried, as the medical staff crowded around Dean.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but—”

An ambulance backed into the stadium and she broke away. No one was keeping her away from him. Another official caught her before she reached him, but she jerked free, running to where Dean lay on a stretcher.

She fell to the turf by his side. “I’m here, honey.”

“Claire—”

She stroked his face. “Shh.”

The paramedics picked up the stretcher and she crawled into the ambulance with him. No one tried to stop her. She rode to the hospital holding his hand. He was in a lot of pain and tried not to show it.

“Claire…”

“Hush. You’ll be okay.” But she wasn’t so sure. His leg wasn’t straight and had soon swollen to three times its normal size.

When they reached the hospital, things moved quickly. The doctor said Dean’s kneecap was fractured in three places and his ligaments were torn. In a daze, she signed the papers for surgery.

Claire called to let Bunny know what had happened, but she already knew; she’d seen it on TV. Sarah had seen it, too, and was crying for her mommy and daddy. Claire reassured her oldest daughter and then sat and waited, all alone, praying her husband was going to be fine.

The injury to his knee had looked bad. How was this going to affect his career, his hopes for the future? She didn’t want his dream taken away from him. She knew how that felt.

She had to do something. Digging in her big bag, which Dean called her “monster purse,” she found a pad she kept to jot down notes about Sarah and her asthma spells. She started to write…

My darling Dean,

Once again I feel alone and helpless. You have to be okay, and I’m praying with everything in me that you will be. I love you and I can’t live without you…

Her tears fell onto the page and it took a moment before she could continue. One hour and a page full of I love you’s later, the doctor came out. He shook her hand.

“Dean came through the surgery just fine. We had to replace his kneecap, and we repaired the torn ligaments, but I’m afraid he’s out for the season. With therapy he might be able to bounce back and regain his speed. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

She felt a tightness in her chest. Dean had worked so hard and dreamed of the day a pro football career would put them on easy street. She worried how he was going to take the news.

“He’s resting comfortably in recovery. You can see him soon.”

The doctor walked away and Claire called Bunny. She had to talk to someone.

Later, she walked to Dean’s room. Her heart contracted at the sight of her strong husband lying there, looking so pale.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said in a drowsy voice.

Tears filled her eyes and she curled up in the bed beside him, on his good side. “How are you?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m fine now.”

“The doctor said—”

“You don’t have to tell me. The football career is over. No team is going to want a wide receiver with a bad knee.”

“I’m sorry.”

He was so still, so silent, that she looked up. His eyes had filled with tears, and seeing them, she had trouble breathing.

“I wanted it for you, so you wouldn’t have to work so hard. And I wanted you to go to college,” he murmured.

“I will someday, when the girls start school.” She kissed him and sat up. “Now we have to get you back on your feet.”

“Claire—”

She placed a finger over his lips. “We’ll get by like we always have.” She picked up the phone on the nightstand. “Now you have to say hi to our oldest daughter and let her know you’re okay, and I’m sure Sami will want to babble some, too.”

“Mom let them watch the game?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“Dean…” Claire dialed the number and handed him the phone.

She listened to him chatting to the girls. With Sami, he did all the talking. Sami was nodding her head, Claire was sure. Dean was a great father, just as she’d known he would be. He would never let his daughters down.

Dean recovered quickly and attended the last game with the team, but he watched from the sidelines on crutches, and she was aware of how much that hurt him.

After the game, that night in bed, Dean was more aggressive than usual, trying to prove he was still the same man. She held him tight, letting him know he was everything to her.

August 5, 1988

IT HAD BEEN A LONG TIME coming, but they were finally moving into their very own home. After Dean graduated, he got a job teaching and coaching in a junior high school. They’d moved out of student housing into a bigger apartment.

But the apartment was too small for two active girls. After a year they decided the girls needed a yard to play in, so they bought a house, a fixer-upper. It was a new experience for Claire, but she learned to paint and sew. She made curtains, another first. Dean did all the repairs to the rotted wood and broken gingerbread trim.

They had to completely gut the kitchen and start over. A friend of Dean’s did the cabinetwork and matched it to the dark wood in the house. It turned out beautiful. Claire and Dean would be in debt for the next twenty-five years, but they loved their new home.

The girls ran around giggling, loving the sound of their voices in the big rooms. Sarah said they lived in a castle and that she and Sami were princesses. Claire and Dean had to call them that, too.

Dean said a princess needed a crown, and tried to make one out of construction paper. His efforts were less than stellar, so Claire came to his rescue. Sarah wanted a pink crown and Sami chose purple. To the best of her abilities Claire drew the shapes on paper, and Dean cut them out and taped the ends together. The girls helped with the gluing of glitter and sequins. Soon they had sparkling crowns, which they refused to remove at bedtime.

Claire and Dean tucked them into their new beds, smiling. They tiptoed to the living room and Dean opened a bottle of wine. He filled two glasses and raised his.

“May this house always be filled with laughter.”

She touched her glass against his. “And with love.”

“Yeah. Lots of love.” He took a swallow, then set his wine on the coffee table. “Lots and lots of it.” His hand reached for the buttons on her blouse.

“Dean.”

“What?” His fingers slid across her collarbone and desire swelled inside her.

“You’re not fast enough.” She quickly undid the buttons and threw her blouse aside.

He laughed and took off his clothes, and then they were skin on skin as they tumbled onto the area rug. He kissed her until the world spun away and only the two of them remained, wrapped around each other in their own magical castle.

Claire’s body welcomed his touch, needed it, and she needed to touch as well, to feel every masculine part of him.

His hardness pressed into her thigh and her fingers trailed down his chest to his stomach. He groaned as she explored and teased secret places only she knew about.

When he could bear no more he rolled onto her, taking her lips as he thrust deep inside her. They fit together perfectly, as they always had. Her hips met each thrust as they rode together to reach the ultimate climax of pure pleasure. His moan of release came a moment after hers.

Afterwards, they lay entwined, their sweat-bathed bodies sated and complete, in a way they knew was as perfect as it could get.

Neither wanted to move or break the physical and spiritual connection they shared. After a few minutes Dean kissed her one more time and rolled away, pulling her up. They sat on the rug drinking wine, kissing and talking. They had truly christened the house as theirs.

And Claire was happy.

November 17, 1988

WHEN IT WAS time for Sarah to start kindergarten, Claire enrolled for morning college classes. Bunny had agreed to watch Sami, and Claire was so excited. Finally, everything was falling into place.

The doctor had been right about Sarah. As she got older, her asthma seemed to disappear. She had flare-ups, but they weren’t so frightening. Now Claire could go to school without feeling she was neglecting her children.

She awoke at five to prepare for an eight o’clock class, and to get Sarah ready for school and Sami ready for Bunny’s. Dean drove the girls while Claire hurried to class.

That afternoon she picked up Sami and headed for Sarah’s school. She stopped for a red light and listened to Sami’s chatter. Her daughter held her Cabbage Patch doll, Patty, telling Claire everything she and Bunny had done.

“Grandma put stuff on her hair and it made it really red, Mommy.”

“It did?”

Sami nodded. “I want red hair.”

Claire suppressed a smile. “Sweetie, you have beautiful blond hair. I would be sad if your hair turned red.”

“Oh.” She thought about it for a minute. “Patty and me like blond, too.”

“Good.”

“Sarie does, too.”

“Yes. She does.” Sami idolized her older sister and followed her around like a shadow.

The light turned green and Claire drove on. She glimpsed something out of the corner of her eye, then heard and felt the crash of metal and glass as a truck slammed into her car, on Sami’s side. The force of the impact hurled them into an electrical pole.

Claire lost consciousness for a few seconds, but when she awakened steam was billowing from under the hood. Despite the pain in her head she only had one thought. Sami! She had to get to her baby.

Blood trickled down Claire’s face and soaked her blouse. Her body ached, but she gathered herself quickly and turned to see how Sami was. Claire’s veins turned to ice when she saw how the side door had caved against her child. All she could see was blond hair and blood. Blood was everywhere.

OhmyGod!

She frantically yanked on her door, but it wouldn’t open.

“Ma’am.” A man came to the broken-out window. “Are you okay?”

She wrestled with the door handle. “Get me out of here, please. I have to get to my daughter.”

“Stay calm, ma’am, an ambulance is on the way. Your car is against an electrical pole and you have to be careful.”

“Open this damn door, do you hear me?” She heard her voice and realized she was screaming, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get to her baby.

When the man didn’t respond, she undid her seat belt and started to climb through the shattered window.

The man opened the door then and she crawled out. For a split second she swayed dizzily, then groped her way around the car. Traffic had stopped and people had gathered, but she barely noticed. The truck had bounced off her sedan and now blocked two lanes of traffic, with smoke rolling from beneath it.

As she caught a glimpse of her vehicle, her heart stilled and she couldn’t breathe. The mangled, crushed door had Sami trapped, and fear like she’d never known before brought Claire to her knees.

She was vaguely aware of the man helping her to her feet, and then she attacked the door, trying with all her strength to drag it off Sami. The wail of sirens didn’t stop her efforts.

Two paramedics pulled her away and another held her so she couldn’t see what they were doing.

“Call my husband,” she sobbed into the man’s chest.

She heard the crunch of metal, the buzz of a saw and the shout of a paramedic. “She’s alive! Let’s get her to the hospital.”

Claire sagged limply and the attendant tried to get her into an ambulance. “Please, ma’am. We have to check you over.”

“I have to be with my daughter.”

“That’s not wise. She’s—”

Claire tore away and ran to the stretcher where they had laid Sami. Claire took a breath and refused to weaken at the sight. Her daughter was bloody from head to toe. Her little chest seemed caved in and her right leg was twisted.

“Let’s go,” one paramedic yelled. “We have to keep her breathing.”

They loaded the stretcher in an ambulance, and when Claire followed, a man tried to stop her again. “Please, ma’am, you don’t need to see this.”