Clara took off the rest of the week, spending time with me, making sure I was okay and safe.
The Police had knocked on our door Wednesday morning and showed me a few pictures they laid out on the kitchen island.
They were pictures of different men that looked very similar to my description I had given them, but none of them were him.
They left our house shortly after.
Clara's knuckles turned white as she gripped the blanket around her shoulders.
"I hope they catch him."
The following evening, Mini invited us over for dinner. Katie was working, so it was just Mini, Alan, and Dominic, who, since the incident, had returned every night despite the fact he was in college, which was an hour away.
He always came over, knocking on our door, making sure we were okay, asking if we needed anything, and always that same expression on his face that sat somewhere between hatred and worry.
Alan invited us in as Mini started to set things down on the kitchen table. Orange chicken with jasmine rice and different vegetables. She put small pitchers of iced tea and water in the center.
Alan asked about the police he had seen yesterday morning, to which Clara explained the pictures.
I glanced at Dominic, sitting across from me, and his eyes darkened.
Slowly, the conversation changed to lighter subjects. Clara's job at the cafe, Dominic's studying, and my schooling. Funny moments Mini had at her job with different patients. Alan dreading the line of surgeries he had scheduled in the morning.
I was thankful for this, this mood that Mini and Alan both provided. It kept my mind off things, both old and new.
Sometimes, I sat in my room on my bed, staring at the wall in front of me as memories, the old ones from the orphanage, those painful nights as I heard girls crying crowded my mind. And the new one. I could see his face, feel his hands on my body.
Nightmares became more frequent and intense. Clara was always there, though, within minutes, making sure I was okay and letting me know over and over I was safe.
I know what I had gone through was nothing compared to Clara's memories. In the orphanage, she protected me. She was there, always there. She sacrificed herself in so many ways for me, so many ways I could never repay her for.
Nothing could ever surpass the love Clara had.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Touch Her
Romance"What did he - Where did he touch you?" His voice had hardened, mad. I swallowed and looked down. "You son of a-" He walked off the porch, angrily running his hands through his hair. "What did he look like? I'm swear I'm gonna kill him. Tell me what...
