Page 78 of Out of the Dark

My phone rings thirty minutes later, and Shane’s name pops up on the screen. I answer immediately.

"Hey, any luck?" I ask. The panic welling up inside me comes through in my voice.

"Yes, actually." Shane is all business, but I can hear the same sort of concern in his tone. "Dani and I are on our way over, but we need to make a stop first. Claire is safe as far as I know, but she’s back withher family."

Shit. I knew her family was behind this, and as happy as I am to hear that she’s safe, the idea that she’s back in that oppressive environment makes me nauseous with worry. Will they punish her for leaving? While it hasn’t sounded like there’s a lot of physical abuse there (thankfully), I’m sure she’s being guilt-tripped to all hell right now. Who knows what else she might be going through.

One thing I still can’t understand, though, is why she’d go with them in the first place. It’s not like they could have forced her, right?

I have so many questions, and I’m dying for answers. I should have been here, should have talked things through with Claire instead of letting my fear and insecurity get the best of me. I’ll never forgive myself if something bad happens to her.

It takes Shane and Dani an hour to get to my place, and I spend the entire time pacing and feeling helpless. The only thing keeping me from collapsing into a miserable mess is my determination to get Claire back.

When I open the door, Dani and Shane’s faces are solemn but showing that same determination I feel.

"Thank you guys for coming," I say in a rush.

Dani wraps her arms around me. "We’ll get her back and bring her home, I promise."

Her using the word "home," meaning here, my home, makes my heart ache. She’s right. This is Claire’s home now too. "Thank you."

"We just made a stop at the police station," Shane explains. "Turns out, if you bribe the right person with enough money, they’ll tell you what you want to know."

My eyebrows rise. "Holy shit. What did you find out? And why are the police involved?" God, if she got hurt…

"Everything’s okay," Shane says, "but let’s sit down andtalk about it, because we can’t do anything tonight. We need to be smart about this." He sits on the couch and Dani follows suit, so I hesitantly sit on the armchair despite the negative energy buzzing through my body.

"Why can’t we do anything tonight?"

"Because the sun is already setting, and Claire’s family lives at least a few hours’ drive away. It’ll be smarter to leave first thing in the morning."

I nod, even though everything inside me is screaming to go get her now. But Shane’s right; we need to be smart about it. "Okay, give me the details."

Shane recounts their conversation with the police—though he fails to mention just how much he had to pay them off for that information. Apparently, Claire’s mother, Beth, reported the car Claire has been driving as stolen. Beth had been searching Claire’s name online, so when she found a school newspaper article with Claire’s name in it, she was able to figure out Claire’s email address since all the student emails follow the same format. After her emails went unanswered, she upped the ante and not only contacted the CPD about the missing car, but also for a wellness check under the guise of being a concerned mother.

The police must have turned up here sometime while I was gone and taken Claire in for questioning about the car. According to the officer Shane talked to, Beth had agreed to drop charges if Claire returned with her.

Though, if I know Claire like I think I do, she’s probably already planning a new way to escape that doesn’t involve taking her family’s car or anything else that could be used as leverage. Lucky for her, she won’t have to figure out an escape plan, because I’m coming to get her, and I won’t let anything stand in my way.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CLAIRE

I can’t force myself to put on the same fake smile I used to as I follow my parents through the doors of the church and shuffle into the pew beside them. All eyes are on me, even though they avert their judgmental gazes when I happen to catch them staring. There are no secrets here, so everyone knows I left. However, I’m sure my mother and father have already spun the story of how I’ve come back. As much as they’ve been admonishing me for leaving, they wouldn’t dare tarnish the family name even more than it already has been due to my actions.

I’ve already caught the tail end of a conversation my mother was having with one of the church elders’ wives, saying how it’s a blessing I’ve strayed from God’s path only to find my way back with more conviction than ever.

Yeah, right.

I tug at the collar of my old dress, the high necklineconstricting my throat. If anything, it feels like an apt metaphor for today.

The massive stained glass windows behind the altar cast an ethereal glow over the room, the streaks of light broken up only by dark wood beams framing the peaked ceiling. Even with my sorrow of being here again, I still find this place breathtakingly beautiful.

I still don’t know if I believe in God or not, but if he does exist, I’m certain it’s not in the way everyone here imagines. I had my doubts before, but giving myself a chance to step away and examine my beliefs from a new angle was the best thing I’ve ever done for myself.

Now, sinking into the pew and looking around at the other church-goers, all I can think about is how stifled I feel here. If God supposedly made me in his image, wouldn’t he want me to be my authentic self? Because here, in my home and in my community, I’m being forced into a mold that I don’t fit into.

Before, it felt bleak, but it was all I knew. Now, this place is my own living hell.

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