Chapter 15
Well, well. Who’s this Blaine, I wondered. Reaching for her crossbody bag. I carefully pulle it over and found a passport with her name–Jane–alongside a wallet and a phone. I pressed her thumb to the screen, unlocking it easily. The screen lit up, showing a photo of her in a dark blue uniform, grinning wildly at the camera, full of life and confidence. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the mess she was in now. Flipping through her ca History, I found *Blaine was the last contact she’d dialed–ten times in a row.
Might as well give it a shot. I pressed “Call* and held my breath, waiting as the ringing stretched on. The Betas outside were getting closer; I could hear their footsteps, mingling with the quiet hum of the desert night. Just when I thought the call would go unanswered. gruff voice picked up on the other end.
“Hello,” he drawled, his NY accent unmistakable, his tone so cold it felt like a slap.
The arrogance in his voice grated on me immediately. I couldn’t resist matching his tone, speaking even colder than him. “Come pick up your friend Jane,” I said, keeping my words
clipped.
“Where?” he asked, as if I’d just disrupted his day for something trivial.
I quickly gave him the location, thinking that would be the end of it. But then he scoffed.
“I’m busy.”
My patience snapped. “This girl got drunk and nearly got torn apart by a pack of Betas,” I said icily. “She’s been calling your name the whole time. You’re really going to leave her out
here in the freezing desert till sunrise?”
There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, I thought I’d struck a nerve. But then, he spoke, his voice laced with suspicion. “Who are you?”
I glanced down at Jane’s pale face, feeling a strange protectiveness over her. “Claire Green,” I replied, almost instinctively.
Silence stretched on the other end. Why did my name matter to him? I heard him repeat it under his breath, like he was trying to place it.
Claire…”
Chapter 15
I snorted, amused. “Is my name some kind of curse? You sound like you’re shaking.”
He stammered, “No… Are you really… Claire Green?
Something in his tone made me wary. Why was everyone so fascinated by my name today? “Fake,” I said dismissively, but his silence lingered, and I found it oddly funny.
I patted Jane’s shoulder, saying cheerfully into the receiver, “Look, just come pick her up,
lright? I have places to be-“
“Claire,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost pleading..
“What’s your deal?” I asked, curiosity finally getting the better of me. Why refuse to help Jane, but latch onto my name like this?
Then his voice softened, and something in it changed. There was a sadness there, a weight I couldn’t quite grasp. “I had a friend…” he murmured. “Also named Claire.”
“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“She left… a long time ago,” he continued, his voice distant. “Her work was dangerous… and today is her birthday.”
A pang of sympathy struck me. “I’m… sorry to hear that,” I said, sitting up straighter, feeling a strange pang for a stranger’s grief.
Blaine fell silent again, and I could sense him wrestling with emotions he didn’t want to share. I thought he might break down, but instead, he asked, almost pleading, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
I paused, thrown off by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’m just… waiting for you to continue.”
He let out a heavy sigh, the kind that only comes from carrying grief too long. “I want to hear you…” he murmured, almost to himself.
Another drunk, I thought, rolling my eyes, though a pang of guilt nagged at me. “Today… her birthday… and also the anniversary of her passing…” Itis words trailed off into the silence between us, thick and heavy with sorrow.
is
Chapter 15
It was almost too much to bear. That’s that’s terrible, I murmured, my voice sofferin
“She was one of the best people I ever knew,” he continued, his tone flat but trembling slightly. “It’s also the day we first met…”
He drifted off, and I wondered if he was fighting back tears on the other end. His voice came through the line like a ghost from some distant, fractured memory. “Claire.”
And then, just like that, the line went dead.
“Hello?” I called out, suddenly alarmed. “Hello? Are you there? Blainer
Nothing. The silence settled around me like a weight. I bit my lip, anxious. He wouldn’t do something drastic, would he? My instincts as a doctor kicked in, flooding me with contem Someone this intoxicated was in serious danger, especially if he passed out without anyone around. The risk of choking of slipping too far….
Muffled noises echoed in the background of the dead call. I strained to hear, but the line was well and truly silent now. It was those final words that haunted me–the way he’d whispered Claire, the grief embedded in that single word, like he was clinging to a ghost.
