Nocturne (Claire de Lune #2)

Fine. It can't get any worse than it already is, right?

Her decision made, Claire ducked back into the darkest corner of the basement, where she'd have the most time to get back into her human shape if anyone came downstairs. Bracing herself, she transformed. There was a soft thud as her tail hit the wall behind her, and Claire held her breath as the shock of the noise and the oppression of the walls shot through her at the same time. It wasn't quite as bad as she'd feared. She still felt the knife edged panic of being trapped indoors, but it didn't shock her the way it had the first time. She flattened her ears to her head and focused on Matthew's voice. There was a faint smell of him lingering in the basement, and she used it to help her concentrate.

". . . you can tell me. Really." Matthew's voice was reassuring.

Claire held her breath and listened hard for Amy's response.

"But you're involved too, and that makes it so hard." There was a tiny catch in her breath, as if she was crying.

"Just because I'm loyal to Claire doesn't mean you can't talk to me," Matthew said.

"Listen, I think it's great that you're standing by her. Really. That's one thing that's completely different from what happened to the girl I knew in Philadelphia—one reason this is a little bit less awful. It's a terrible secret to keep alone, but it's not exactly something most people want to spread around. I totally get why Claire is always so distant. Why she won't open up to me, no matter how nice I try to be."

The words pricked at Claire, needle-pointed and painful. Amy saw her exactly the way the rest of the world saw Marie. Which was everything she'd never wanted to be.

"That's very . . . understanding of you," Matthew said. He sounded confused.

"So, anyway, on Saturday, I heard the two of you talking at the ball, and I finally put all the pieces together. The way she was too nauseous to go to the party, the cravings Claire was talking about at the mall, the way she was worried about a growth spurt . . . Plus, she was always so tired and stressed, and a couple of times she mentioned something complicated going on with the two of you. But when I heard her talking about the baby, it just all made sense. It was same stuff that happened to Samantha, the girl I knew in Philadelphia who got pregnant. She tried to get rid of the baby on her own, and she nearly died."

Claire's insides froze. Get rid of the baby?

Amy thought she was pregnant? A sick feeling spread through her.

Upstairs, Amy barreled on. "I just got scared that Claire would try something like that, and so, when I saw her on Sunday, I finally said something to her, and she freaked."

There was a brief pause, and Matthew took a huge breath. "Amy, I think there's been a really massive misunderstanding."

"What do you mean?"

Claire closed her eyes, remembering their encounter in the bathroom.

"Amy, Claire's not pregnant." The words were blunt as a hammer.

Claire listened so hard for Amy's response that her ears twitched.

"She's—oh. Oh my God. Are you sure? I mean, you don't think she's just hiding it from you?" "I don't really want to get into the specifics with you, but believe me, there is no way that Claire's pregnant." Claire could practically hear him gritting his teeth when he said it.

"Holy crap. Matthew, I told her I wouldn't stand by and watch her try to cover it up. I thought she might try to get rid of the baby on her own or something, and . . . crap. What if she thinks I told someone? She'll never forgive me!"

Claire shuddered. Amy didn't know how close to the truth she was—how close Claire had come to killing her. A completely innocent human.

"Please, Matthew. I don't think she'll listen to me after what I said to her yesterday. Will you help me talk to her?"

"Sure." Claire heard Matthew's voice shift as he stood up. "I'm actually going over there in a little while. I'll tell her you want to talk to her, and I'll make sure she'll listen."

"Could I go with you?" Amy asked hopefully. "I'd love to just get this fixed."

"Ah . . . she's, um . . ." Oh, come on! One good lie! I'm sick, remember?

Claire's nose twitched.

"I think she might not be in the best mood to talk," Matthew said. "Let me try first. I'll make her see that you really just meant to help—that it was all a big mistake—and then I'll have her call you later tonight, okay?"

"That would be fantastic," said Amy. Their footsteps moved toward the front door. "And Matthew? Thanks. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. Claire's really lucky to have you, you know?"

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