Elena / Clair
Just tell me who you are.
The words land somewhere behind my ribs, and for a moment I can't remember how to make my mouth work.
I have imagined this moment ten thousand times. In the shower. In the car. Lying awake at 3 AM in apartments that never felt like home, in cities that were never mine. I rehearsed it the way you rehearse a speech you're terrified to give—different openings, different endings, different versions of her face when she finally understood.
None of my rehearsals prepared me for this. For her jaw set the way Hank's gets set. For the way she's standing between us like she's daring either of us to lie to her again.
"Sam." Hank's voice, behind her, rough and low. He doesn't move closer. Doesn't try to answer for me. He just says her name like it's the onl
