in the parking garage, her vision is fuzzy at the edges. She tries to tell him that something is wrong, but there is a drag on her words when she speaks. He helps her into the car but that is not the right word—help. Help is what she needs, something that feels impossible and very far away. Her words retreat. Her arms go heavy at her sides. Along the road the lit billboards hover over the marsh, ringed in a hazy purple glow. They pass underneath the neon sign for the Sunset Motel and into the darkness. He guides his car around the back of the motel. She wants to tell him that this is not where she needs to go but can only manage a groan.
And then his hands are on her, circling her neck, pressing against her throat. She can’t raise her arms to fight him off or kick her feet. She can’t scream, but the screams in her head are louder now, that three-part wail of her daughter’s that used to make her dig her nails into her palms. Her lungs burn. When the blackness comes, it is a relief that she no longer has to look into his face, his teeth clenched, the pale blue eyes that now glow with rage. The last thing Jane hears is the groan that escapes from between his teeth and the swish of the grass in the breeze.
CLARA
I WORE LILY’S PEARL BRACELET again when I got ready for my date—Des’s word, not mine. As Des curled my hair, I looked at my wrist and pretended I was another kind of girl: One whose desk was stacked with books and brochures for colleges with redbrick buildings. One who sat in cafes with her friends, laughing over iced coffees and slices of cake. A girl who lived a careful life, whose mother kept a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter, whose closets were filled with soft towels and clean white sheets.
“Hey, what’s this?” She reached for my hand, tapped the bracelet.
“From that girl. The new one at the spa.”
Des laughed and I could see the dark fillings in the back of her mouth. Des hadn’t asked about the vision I’d had at the spa, and maybe she had thought I had been faking it, spacing out for show. That was fine with me. I always tried to forget most of what I saw from other people’s lives, but it tended to stick around, bits of memories that lingered in mine like scraps of strange dreams.
“You’re quick as hell, Miss Clara Voyant. I might even say you’ve surpassed your teacher. Take anything else this week you want to let me in on?”
I thought of Julie Zale’s purple bandana. It was in my room, under my pillow. Her uncle probably thought he’d dropped it on the boardwalk, that it had been carried away by the breeze. One more piece of her he had lost.
“Nothing.”
“You bring that bracelet over to Zeg tomorrow, okay? And tell him you won’t take less than fifty. He’s been a real tightwad lately, and we’ve got bills to pay.” I nodded, but that wasn’t a part of my plan.
“Lean closer,” Des said. I waited for her to say something else. To ask if I was still willing to do this, to see if I was okay. She wiped her thumb underneath my eye and pulled a kohl pencil from her pocket. “Up,” she said, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling while she ran the eyeliner back and forth, back and forth, rimming my eyes in black. I could feel tears building up but knew that I’d make a mess of my makeup if I let them fall. I told myself there was only one first time for everything. To think of it as one more con—some idiot wants to spend his money on me? Fine. As Des finished my makeup, I had that same feeling again, the fly, crawling across my chin. I tried to keep still, but I couldn’t stand it and twitched to shake it free.
“What the hell?” Des said. She had drawn a black line down my cheek.
“You didn’t see anything?”
“I saw you freaking out. What do you mean? See what?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She licked her finger and rubbed at the mark on my skin. “I need you to be cool about this, okay? We need this cash.”
“I know,” I said. “I will.” She brushed my cheeks with powder and stood back to