I approached slowly and cautiously, more out of fear of her having read my poems than how she would be. Then I heard a soft sniff. I turned to face Clara sitting on her chair, and my heart broke in two when I saw her cheeks were wet and her eyes were red.

My book was clutched to her chest, open on a page.

“Clara?” I signed. “Are you okay?”

She watched my hands, and then nodded her head. I sat down before her and she lowered the notepad, resting it on her lap.

“This one,” she signed, then patted her hand over her heart, “It is me,” she added, a tear falling from her puffy eyes. “This poem is me.”

I flicked my gaze down to the poem, and I stilled. It was the one I used to read most. The one that tore me apart. The one I’d written at the worst of Annabelle’s taunts. The one I wrote just before I succumbed to their cruelty.

“Clawed Heart,” I mouthed on seeing the scribbled title of the poem. Clara nodded her head and I watched as she started reading from the first line:

“Spears from mouths, they fire at will,

Malicious and sharp, with poison they fill.

The venom is fast, destroying the vein,

Melting the flesh, racking with pain.

Invading heat, like rivers it flows,

Eyes firmly set, the place it hurts most.

Like ink it is black, polluting the light,

The words manifest, one goal in its sight.

The skin shreds away, leaving naught but bone,

It rips away life, leaving fear on its own.

It sweeps through the mind, taking happiness and soul,

With talons like razors, it moves, dipping low.

It creeps down the neck, tears the body apart,

The darkness consumes, the last bastion: the heart.

It wraps it in vines, strangling its breath,

It pierces with needles, no beat there is left.

The blood, it runs deep, its shell empty and bare,

The claws shred and they maim, ‘til there’s nothing left there.

The darkness it smiles, the weak they can’t cope,

Then it moves to the next, to victor cruelty, not hope.”

I breathed through my nose as I saw Clara’s eyes leave the page, and she ran her fingers over the words, to victor cruelty, not hope… to victor cruelty, not hope… to victor cruelty, not hope…

She traced the words three times, then pointed to herself. My skin crawled with a feeling, the feeling of knowing. I knew what that line meant. I had lived it. Was living it still, as was she.

“Cruelty,” she signed. “That’s what they do. They use cruelty to hurt, until all hope fades away.”

“But you can fight it,” I signed, and Clara tipped her head to the side.

“Did you fight it? Have you fought it?” she asked, and I dropped my hands.

She smiled sadly, then pointed back at the last two words… not hope…

Clara stared at that poem so hard that I took the notepad and ripped out the page. Her brown eyes widened in surprise as I placed the paper on her lap. She shook her head, and went to lift her hands. I stopped them from moving, my hands over hers. She focused on my mouth. “It’s yours,” I said, and watched her read my lips.

She dipped her eyes and said, “Thank… you…” My heart filled with light as the heavenly sound of her stuttered monotone voice filled my ear.

“You’re welcome,” I mouthed back and squeezed at her hand.

I heard the sound of Lexi’s heels coming down the hallway to take me home, so I could dress for the dinner tonight.

Sitting back, I signed, “Are you okay, Clara? I have to go.”

Clara inhaled a long deep breath, then she smiled. She smiled. And it wasn’t fake or even small. She smiled showing me her teeth and she nodded her head.

She lifted the poem in her hand, then put it back down and signed, “This gives me hope. Thank you.”

I saw Lexi enter the doorway, and I got to my feet. For the first time since I started coming here, I had gotten through to Clara.

My pain had helped. My words had shown her she was not alone.

Her reaction showed me I was not alone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Clara, okay?”

Clara reached up and caught my hand, squeezing my fingers. Nodding, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then walked toward Lexi who was smiling at me with pride.

We walked down the hallway, and when we got into the car, Lexi turned to me. “You had a breakthrough?” she asked. Smiling, I nodded my head.

“It was one of my poems. It helped her.”

Lexi’s head tipped to the side. “You write poems?”

I hesitated, not realizing that I had given a secret away, but I answered honestly. “Yes.”

“You’re quite the remarkable girl, Elsie,” Lexi announced, and patted my leg. “I’m real glad you saw progress with Clara, it helps open them up to talking. It’s the first step, Elsie. You should be proud.”

We rode home and all the way there I felt changed inside. I’d helped someone see they weren’t alone. Even the nerves that were threatening to rise at the trepidation of tonight, couldn’t steal this positive feeling.

Maybe, I thought, maybe there is a place for me in this world after all.

Chapter Fourteen

Elsie

“Just hold it there for one more second,” Ally said as she ran the powder brush over my forehead and cheeks, one more time. I held still, the fat brush bristles tickling my nose. Ally stepped back, her bright smile taking over her face. Her brown eyes softened. “You look beautiful, darlin’, I’d kill for that skin of yours.”

I blushed at her compliment, getting to my feet when Lexi walked into the pool house. Lexi stopped, then she looked at me and put her hand over her chest. “Elsie,” she said gently. “You look stunning.”

I glanced down at my gold dress which Ally had taken me out to buy, the tight strapless sweetheart bodice, running into a flowing net skirt that fell to mid-thigh. I was in heels—I’d had to practice walking in them—and my hair was down my back in big thick curls.

Ally’s hands landed lightly on my shoulders. “Take a look at your makeup, Elsie. I’ve kept it light seeing as you don’t really need a lot to begin with.”

Doing as she said, I looked in the mirror she held in her hands, and I swallowed. I looked so different. I wanted Levi to like it.

“Well?” Ally asked, concern in her expression.