“The phone calls. The charm. The hospital on the wrong side of town. You told me you were going to your parents’ house every Wednesday.”
Megan stepped forward.
“Claire, please listen.”
“I’m not talking to you,” I snapped. “I don’t even know you anymore.”
She recoiled like I had slapped her.
Daniel tried to sit higher.
“Babe, please. They think it was stress. They want to keep me overnight.”
“I can’t do this here.”
I turned for the door, but Megan moved in front of it.
“Move.”
“Claire, please.”
“Megan, move.”
She looked at Daniel.
He closed his eyes and gave the smallest nod.
Megan inhaled shakily.
“Daniel collapsed in the clinic parking lot,” she said. “Right after he dropped me off.”
I stared at her.
“What clinic?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He’s been helping me get clean.”
The words did not fit together at first.
Megan wiped her face with trembling hands.
“There’s a recovery clinic about ten minutes from here. He’s been driving me every Wednesday for almost six months. Outpatient program. He helped pay for it because I begged him not to tell anyone. Especially Mom and Dad.”
