Her legs wobbled. Her words tangled. She failed tests she didn’t even understand. The officers exchanged another look. To Clare, it felt unreal — like watching herself lose an argument she hadn’t known she was having.
She was placed in the back of a patrol car while the manager stood on the sidewalk, pale and shaken, hands clasped in front of him like someone waiting for judgment. At the station, Clare was allowed one phone call. She called Daniel. He answered on the third ring. “Daniel,” she said, and hated how unsteady her voice sounded.