Clair went to grab the manuscript she had been working hard on but… “Damn,” she said aloud; she had forgotten that she threw it out of the window in a fit of rage. Regretting it was still not something she did. She pulled the card John had given her from her pocket instead. When she looked at it, she was taken aback to discover that she had missed seeing a scheduled meeting for that morning. It was in an hour. She was going to go to their meeting the next day but… she pressed her ear against her door. Avoiding her sister was a need at this point.

Was she crying? Clair cupped her hand on the door around her ear so she could hear better. She adjusted slightly as if she was trying to get a better frequency. The door was cool, and she had almost decided to move to a new, cooler spot. She intended to escape her sister, but how could she now? When she gently opened her door, she was not surprised to see her sister on the floor, with tears streaming down her face. A picture she knew too well. Being the little one of the family, you'd expect her to be the one most comforted, but that's not how it was.

All the time Clair's sister found tragedy, and all the time Clair helped pick up the pieces. Clair didn't see Alana as the adult she was, but the older- younger- sister, Alana frequently acted as.

“I don't want to burden you,” Alana said between sniffles. Clair stood in the doorway initially feeling no sympathy until Alana revealed, "He was beating me."

“Alana, I'm so sorry. Of course, of course, you are welcome to stay here.”

“Now you have no issue, and you have this sympathy that you've lacked before. You know, I came to you because we are sisters, and you never even asked what was wrong. Your first thought was you, and that shouldn't have surprised me.” Clair felt like shit and stared at Alana open-mouthed. Alana sighed and began to speak, but Clair lifted her finger.

“I need a second before I can't respond.” There was an abundance of anger Clair knew was about to be misdirected. She took a breath and felt her lungs as they inflated. She imagined. The feeling of her lungs in her chest as they inflated. She imagined pushing out the raging flame of frustration and then exhaled, at least for a second. She felt at peace.

“I'm sorry, it's been a bad day. You are not a burden at all. I--”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“--Okay… you can stay as long as you need. I need some fresh air, please.” She stopped and wondered if she should leave her sister in such a state.

“I'll be fine. You should go. Anyway, I can use some time alone.” Alana was wrapped, burrito style, in a blanket.“Some time alone in a safe place to think would be nice.” Alana had a half smile while she said this. She clutched the stuffed animal Dad had given her when they were kids. “I can't believe that after all this time, you still have this.”

“I keep anything that reminds me of him.”

“I miss him.”

“I do too.” They both spoke in low tones.

“You lost the ring?” Alana asked the question Clair was trying to avoid. She didn't want to discuss it again. “How are you going to get it back?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Alana closed her eyes and took a deep breath before rolling away from Clair who stared at her with sympathy.

The breeze brought thoughts that came in and out of Claire's mind as she briskly walked to the coffee shop. She was going to be late, but she wanted time to think. Her footsteps were quick and she almost tripped a couple of times walking down Pine Street to Harriot, which curved in a way she thought was dangerous for people walking as the cars speeding wouldn't be able to see them.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Harriot Street was busier than she remembered and filled with various stores and shops. She walked for ten minutes past a Walmart and various car dealerships, where she stopped to check out a sexy BMW painted a shiny blue. She didn't know much about cars but she could stop and appreciate them. There were only a few more Blocks she had walked before she could see the shop Brown Brewed. She laughed, “Sounds like shit.”

Keeping her eyes on the ground, where the sun couldn't burn them, she began walking towards the doors until she ran hard into what felt like a brick wall and fell to her ass.

“Where were you going?” She heard through the sound of scattering papers and books hitting the ground.

“I'm sorry the sun was so bright I couldn't see where I was going.”

“Everything is mixed up now! You should be sorry you--” Then he stopped looking at Clair while she was picking up the papers on the ground. “--Are gorgeous.” A tomato would have been a good way to describe how red Clair's face turned. She dropped the papers she had picked up.

“I am so sorry.”

“That's ok they were already mixed up from when you hit me the first time. My name is Mathew,” He had his hand stretched out inviting hers. His hand wasn't hot or clammy but soft and cool. Clair had always hated sweaty hands. “If you don't mind, I'd prefer if I could pick this up myself. Sensitive work, I hope you understand.” She did and scribbled her number on a paper he had given her. He texted her so she'd have his number as well, then Claire walked into the bustling coffee shop.

There were baristas walking around with serving trays carrying multiple drinks and there was chattering and laughter around her. Taking a deep breath through her nose, Claire could smell the aroma of freshly ground coffee and freshly baked pies that the workers were putting on display. Claire smiled. To some this might be a writer's nightmare with too many distractions but this is what she thrived in. Organized chaos. There was a group of three people sitting at a circular table, Claire assumed they were the focus group and she walked up to introduce herself.

“Hello, I'm Claire, it's nice to meet all of you.”

“Another member!” A short blond jumped up and shook Claire's hand. “My name is Chloe, It’s so nice to have more people interested in our little focus group.” Chloe was still shaking Claire's hand while talking. “This is Amanda--”

“Hello.”

“-- and this is Mark”

"Sup baby," Claire was thrown off and she refrained from reaching in to shake his hand even though he had invited it. He looked at her like she was a wounded animal, “What baby, I don't bite.”

“No thank you,” Claire said and rolled her eyes at him before leaning in to shake Amanda's hand, who did not shake hers. Amanda had her head buried in her laptop typing furiously.

“Hello, no offense but I am super busy and I need this time to finish this draft, not to play friends.” Claire receded her hand and Chloe scoffed.

“We don't have time for you to play bitch,” Claire was stunned, Chloe didn't come off as that kind of person, but Amanda simply laughed and didn't say anything in return. Was this how they joked with each other? Clair gently took a seat, feeling awkward as she did it while the others spoke. She noticed Mark staring at her from the corner of her eye. “So tell us about yourself,” Clair had the sudden urge to leave. Her heart paced up while she looked at the three of them; why am I being so Timid? She asked herself.

“Well I moved here after graduation-”

“You graduated? Thank god, now someone can tell us what we are doing.” Mark said loudly after throwing his hands in the air.

“She isn't going to do your homework you half-witted jock,” Amanda kicked him from under the small table resting in front of them. Clair only just noticed it was scattered with papers.

“- yes I have my degree in Creative writing and I am Jonathan Barlowes Assistant.” There was silence among the group of people before Mathew walked up to them out of breath.

“Sorry I'm late,” He said breaking the silence that fell on the group.

“Fashionably late,” Chloe said slapping him on the shoulder causing him to drop his stack of papers on the floor.

“Damn it not again,” Mathew let out a frustrated sigh and began picking them up. He either hadn't noticed Clair or he didn't care. Amanda and Chloe however were staring at Clair.

“You know he had another assistant right?” Chloe had a sound of concern in her voice.

“Yes he always hires graduates fresh out of college so he can,” Clair said the next part with her fingers as quotations, “pave the way for them.” She ended, mocking John's voice.

“They went missing,” Mathew was looking at her now. “His last two assistants have gone missing sometime after they worked with him.