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Even if she delayed, she’d have to go back eventually. Better to get it done now.

Parking the car in her usual spot, she stared at the double-wide. Nestled into a small patch of trees on the edge of their poor neighborhood, it was a dreadful eyesore. The cheap siding was turning green and parts of it were pulling away from the main structure. The once-brilliant-blue shutters and door were dingy and chipped. The front steps were uneven and falling apart. The roof was littered with rotting debris. Last time she tried to climb up there and clear it off, she’d fallen and twisted her ankle.

She hated the damn thing. She also loved it.

After the fire, she was terrified and alone. Spending months in the hospital, the scent of antiseptic and burned flesh never left her. The feel of the gauze over her tender flesh, how it itched and stung. She couldn’t move her arm, neck, or torso for weeks without wincing in pain.

She attributed a lot of her quirks to the time she spent in the hospital. Needing to constantly wash her hands and sanitize everything. Being picky about the texture of the cloth touching her skin.

Rachel came to see her in the hospital every day, and when Clarissa was moved out of ICU, she slept in her room. The hospital was five hours away from Fairville, where her parents’ house used to be.

Clarissa had appreciated the company, though her aunt felt like a stranger to her. After moving in with Rachel, it took a long time for her to feel at home. Her aunt did everything in her power to make this double-wide her home.

It used to symbolize how far they’d come together. Now it slowly rotted into disarray, just like their lives.

With a heavy heart, she went up to the door, unlocking it and cautiously pushing it open.

Rachel sat at the kitchen table, reading. She glared up. “Who are you and why do you have a key to my house?”

“Greg sent me,” she said. “He wanted me to check in on you and stay here to keep an eye on things.”

“Oh.” Her brow furrowed. “Like a maid? Well, in that case, you’ve got a lot of work to do! This place is filthy.”

“I’ll get right on it.” She took off her hoodie and shoes. Thankfully she didn’t need to wear her regular uniform today, so she was already wearing her comfy jeans and a tank top, with her hair pulled into a bun. Clarissa didn’t think she would be able to convince Rachel she was allowed in her own room right now.

“Did you eat?” she asked.

“I know how to feed myself,” Rachel snapped.

So, it was going to be one of those days. Ignoring the snip, she finished picking up the mayhem from the night before. After vacuuming, mopping, and scrubbing the bathroom, she set off to tackle the kitchen without Rachel so much as looking up at her.

“Why did Greg send you?” Rachel demanded out of the blue.

“He wanted me to help you out,” she said. “He thought it would be nice if you had some company out here.”

“He thinks I don’t know how to take care of myself?” Rachel accused. “He thinks I don’t know how to clean my own house?”

Clarissa’s phone buzzed.

“No, he just thought it would be nice if you had some help.” Her phone buzzed again; she went to check it. She hadn’t even unlocked it when a mug crashed into the cabinet by her head. She whipped around to see Rachel on her feet, glaring at her.

“You’re lying!”

“What?” Clarissa gasped.

“You’re lying, Greg didn’t send you.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“You’re a spy. You’re working for them. You’re trying to hunt me down, you want to burn me like you burned my brother!”

“No, I’m not here to hurt you, Rachel.”

“Prove it!”

“H-how? Do you want me to call Greg?”

“What have you done to him? Where is he!”