CHAPTER SEVEN
“Fake it til you make it” was the unofficial motto at the psych hospital, but to no surprise, Clair and Hunter had been doing it most of their lives.
A few years had gone by after the first round of treatment, and they fell off the wagon — again, but this time both of them hit hard and with a loud thud. As before, Hunter's deal was drugs and alcohol; this go around Clair's was alcohol and him. He supplied the rest of the madness which drew her to him, and him to her, but it was also the madness that kept breaking them apart. In a bit of twisted irony, it was the madness that held them together.
The anguish Clair had experienced from birth until now —most of the anger and resentment was pushed deep inside. Drugs and alcohol helped her cope. She experimented with recreationa
