Page 66 of The Bleak Beginning

“I know you don’t like it when I talk about her, but I can’t help myself. And I thought that if I wrote it down and gave it to you, you wouldn’t be able to brush it off…or change the subject.” Clara pauses.

My eyes close slowly, already knowing what she’s trying to bring up. Every time Clara mentions our mother, I feel the tension rising between us. She was the one divide we would always have between us.

“I’ve never tried to stop you from being in her life,” I remind her.

“I know, I know,” she says. “But you haven’t wanted to be part of hers for over three years now.” She hesitates before she speaks once more. “She asks about you, you know?”

A tight knot forms in my stomach, and I let out a bitter laugh at this new information.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth. That you’re at Altair now. She seemed…proud, I think.”

Another equally bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Proud?” Not likely.

“Alex, please,” Clara pleads. “She’s changed. She’s getting better.”

I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool glass of the call box. The familiar ache of old wounds threaten to surface, but I push it down. This is absolutely not what I thought we’d be discussing right now.

“Clara…”

“Wait, hold on. Elle is coming over. And just for your information, a root canal would’ve been more fun than the amount of alone time I’ve spent with her recently.”

I nod in understanding, even though Clara can’t see me.

“No, you can’t talk to her,” I hear her say into the receiver followed by a muffled voice. She scoffs. “Because I’m the one she called.”

“Elle, I swear—” Clara’s voice fades as she presumably moves away from the phone. I hear a scuffle, then Elle’s voice comes through.

“Alex!” Her voice bursts through the receiver. “Hi, sweetie, how are you? How’s the university? Did you get my letter? Your father’s been worried sick about you. I have his hotel's contact details in case you want to give him a call later on. You know, just in case he doesn't pick up his cellphone. Clara’s being a phone hog, anyway.”

I glance at the small clock inside the cubicle, acutely aware of the minutes she’s wasting that I could have with my sister instead.

There’s more incoherent chatter at the other end, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Clara is desperately trying to snatch the phone away from Elle.

“Sorry, I have to make this quick,” she says. “My letter, did you get it?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

“I did,” I answer, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear to save my eardrum from shattering at her squeal. I swear I also hear a muffled groan from Clara.

“Did you open it?”

“Nope.”

Elle’s enthusiasm deflates audibly. “Oh… Well, okay.”

I close my eyes, willing myself patience. “Elle, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not interested in reading whatever’s in that letter. I called to talk to Clara.”

“But—”

“Elle,” I cut her off, my voice firm. “Please put Clara back on the phone. I’m limited on time here.”

The clock in front of me showed less than five minutes until nine.

There’s a moment of silence, then a shuffling sound. I hear Elle’s muffled voice, sounding hurt. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Clara’s voice comes back, clearer now. “Sorry about that. I swear she came out of nowhere.”

I let out a small chuckle, picturing the scene. “It’s fine. I should’ve known she’d be lurking nearby.”

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