for a profit in four years’ time. And maybe—a wild thought—that she’d learn about a father she’d barely known, which would, most likely, be good for her personal growth.
She’d been attempting to think like an Exceller.
But as the sleet had begun to rain down on her head, Claire realized she was only being delusional again.
There was nothing for her, for any of them, here. And if the sleet was a portent of what was to come, Claire wanted to be nowhere near this place. Eileen could call her paranoid, and Murphy could call her mean. She was used to no respect at home; wasn’t that always a middle child’s plight? She was the Exceller of the family though, and, it seemed, the only sister with a plan. If that required her to give orders, so be it.
“Did you hear me? We’re leaving, before it gets any worse.” Claire held up her phone, at 8 percent, close to death. “They’re calling for sleet and freezing rain. The roads are going to be brutal. We have to go.”
“But Eileen said the car has to reeest.” Murphy whined.
And she wondered why Claire treated her like a baby.
Claire and Murphy had never been close. Three years was a weird age gap. It seemed whenever Claire was leaving a stage of life, Murphy was getting into it, and maybe that wasn’t Murphy’s fault, but she could be so annoying—a babbling toddler when Claire was a bookish seven-year-old; a gangly, too-loud middle schooler when Claire was starting high school; an awkward freshman when Claire was a seasoned senior. The timing was never right.
When she’d been younger, Murphy had constantly asked if Claire would play with her, help her with homework, watch a magic trick. Claire had kept saying no, no, no. Murphy was always a little too little, and the magic obsession and silly jokes didn’t help. Eileen, weirdly enough, had been closer to Murphy. Years ago, on those nights when Eileen had babysat, she’d almost always taken Murphy’s side in a Claire versus Murphy fight. That had driven Claire crazy, back when she and Eileen had been close, and Claire had actually cared about Eileen’s opinion. Lately, though, neither of them had been spending time with Murphy, and Murphy had stopped asking the annoying questions.
Claire had wondered if, maybe, over that time, Murphy had grown up.
But no. Not a chance. Murphy had stowed away in the Caravan, clamored endlessly for cheese curds, run off despite Claire’s instructions, and broken into this house. And now she was sitting at the grand piano, plunking out a clumsy version of “Heart and Soul.”
Claire watched, stomach turning. Murphy had heard Cathy’s story as clearly as Claire had. How could she possibly choose to sit there, knowing what she did? Claire thought of bloodstained keys, of a broken skull. She retched.
“Whoa,” said Eileen. “Take it easy.”
Claire swallowed the nausea and said, “I’ll take it easy once we’re on the road.”
“It’s bad out there?” Eileen squinted at the ceiling, as though that was a better indicator of the weather than an up-to-date app.
“It’s bad,” Claire insisted, “and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Then why would we go out in it?”
Claire gaped. Eileen loved being a smart aleck, but this was not the time.
“Seriously,” Eileen kept on, “you know what a piece of shit the Caravan is. Even if it starts up, there’s no way I’m going out in that. We could get stranded on the road.”
“We’re already stranded here,” protested Claire.
“Exactly,” said Eileen. “Here. In a home. With electricity and a roof over our heads. You want us to go on the road for hours, when we could skid off the highway? Or the Caravan could break down again and we freeze to death on I-5? I’m not risking that.”
Claire was realizing something against her will. Eileen wasn’t just being stubborn; she was being the older sister—the way she had once upon a time. In those days Claire had come home from middle school crying and Eileen had poured her a soda and told her it’d be okay. Back then talking to Eileen had felt like consulting someone wise and fierce, who would back Claire up and fight her enemies, no matter what. Eileen had been the babysitter in charge, the one to come up with solutions if there was a leaking dishwasher while Mom was at work. She’d been the eldest.
But she’d officially given up that title two years ago. She’d slunk into the garage and stopped caring about anyone