"She's not here," Claire said, giving him a baleful look. Well, as far as she could see it, it was true, as Mary was very pregnant and people were vanishing, not arriving. He was just trying to get her out of bed. She wished he'd not even try, as it hadn't even been two days since that part of her life had come apart at the seams.
In her self-imposed misery, it wasn't just the loss that hurt, it was – as she saw it, felt with drunken self-pity – once again the missed potential with people, like how her sister and biological father had been so close, but she'd never been able to bridge the rest of the gap. She was just the girl from the mistake future, not the one from the 'right' timeline that the others had known. Maybe she'd never been meant to erase that space.
"And it's after midnight. Sleepin'," she informed him, tipped the glass back and emptied it of its contents, barely noticing the burn of the alcohol, then rolled over onto her side and presented him with her back.