least, that’s the plan. I really enjoyed the adventure and mystery of working on this for Nathan. I want to see and do more with that.”
“Adventure? You mean going into cartel territory and almost dying?” Claire says incredulously. “Yeah, that sounds fun. And what about acting? You could do both like you have been. Just work for the professor and audition more.”
Claire argues, obviously not satisfied with a reasonable plan that most sisters would be over the moon about.
“I love it, and maybe I’ll still do some, but I don’t feel the same pull to be on Broadway. I feel like there’s more out there in the world that’s real, not pretend. I think a part of me was using that to escape my life, be someone else so I didn’t have to be myself. Now, I’m kind of excited about who I am and what I can do. Does that make sense?”
“Shit, you’re playing hardball with the self-actualization,” Claire says, turning around to hug me before she steps back and stares deep into my soul. I stand, locking eyes with her openly, hoping she sees the truth.
With a heavy sigh, she gives in, and I think maybe our relationship’s changed a little. Not that we won’t be as close as ever, but we’re more equal now than ever before.
“Fine. I still have reservations about Nathan and his business dealings, in particular, but I’m not the one to pass judgement on him. At least not now. Not until I can separate my emotions from the facts.”
The warning that she’s not giving up is so her. Her utter commitment is something I’ve always admired about her, but the flip side is that her stubborn streak is a mile wide and full of rapids that’ll sweep you under if you try to fight them.
So I don’t fight and accept her for who she is. “He’s a good man. You’ll see, I promise. I don’t know a lot about his business, but I trust that he’s just as good there. I trust him.”
“He’d better be a good man, to you and in general.” She plops down on the edge of my bed, fidgeting with the buttons on a sweater. “I guess it’s not like I’m apparently the best judge of character anyway.”
I can read her eyes, and I know that there’s a subject that I need to clear between us because I don’t want it to fester. “Claire . . . Matt?”
She reads my question and swallows, turning to look out my apartment window. “Yeah. We knew we weren’t supposed to. But we were partners, and there’s a closeness there that . . . we were on a case, a human trafficking ring upstate. We were undercover, the stress was off the charts, and after a close call, we just . . .”
“Claire, you don’t have—”
“No, you asked, and you deserve the truth,” Claire says. “I thought he was a rock. It was just a one-time indiscretion, but we were more than partners. We were friends. But I was blind and that nearly got you killed. Emma, I don’t blame you for what happened to Matt. I don’t blame Nathan . . . too much. I blame Matt, and I blame myself.”
“You don’t need to blame yourself,” I tell her, sitting beside her and hugging her close. “You’re my big sister, and you’re one badass agent. That doesn’t mean you’re perfect.”
Letting her go a bit, I keep my arm around her shoulder. “Your judgement is just fine. Matt had everyone fooled.”
She snuggles into me, and I hope she’s taking my absolution to heart and not beating herself up too badly.
“What’s happening with that?” I ask carefully. After the admission about her relationship with him, this is still shaky ground.
“You know I waited a couple of days and then went to my boss, told him I was worried. It took about a week for alarms to be fully raised, and I told them I’d been looking into his disappearance. I turned in his laptop and let the forensic techs have their way with it. They figured out his secrets pretty fast.”
Her head drops, and I worriedly ask, “You didn’t get in trouble too, did you?”
“No, thankfully not. They’re digging, but nothing implicates me because I had no fucking idea about any of it.”
She spits the words out like they burn her tongue. “They questioned me, but I think it’s likely they’ll have enough to keep them busy with the Russian mafia intel. Nothing will