Panicked hues shot over to Peter when he asked what happened. Wasn't it obvious? The gunshot should've given it away, but just incase he hadn't heard it, she rambled out an explanation. Her voice shook uncontrollably as she spoke, quickly going over the important stuff. "It all happened so fast. This guy came out of nowhere and demanded we give him all our money. His hand was shaking, and the gun went off. Claire stepped in the way." Whether the shot was an accident or not was debatable, though it didn't matter whether it was deliberate or not: the end result was the same.
She should've just handed over what cash she had on her and instructed Claire to do the same. It wasn't worth dying over.
"You can save her, right?" The temporary calm that had started to settle over her when Peter showed up quickly vanished when she realized Claire wasn't breathing, and she didn't have a pulse. Tears began to fall as Brooke watched helplessly, praying with all her might that it wasn't too late. Claire was too young to die, too good. The world would be a darker place with her gone. In that moment, she started going over all the things she should've done to prevent this: things she could've done differently. It never should've been Claire. It should've been her. If only she could turn back time. Maybe then-
Brooke jumped when Claire coughed. Her first thought was that Peter had been able to revive her, but that didn't explain how the bullet was no longer lodged inside her. Not that she had searched the ground for it, but she was fairly certain it hadn't been there before. It was like it'd suddenly just fallen out.
Regardless of how it'd happened, she was thrilled beyond belief that not only was her friend alive, but she was feeling well enough to talk.
Brooke helped Claire sit up before gently pulling her into a hug ( more for her own peace of mind than anything else ), but released her soon after and shifted around to where the wound should be. Using the blood stain on her companion's clothing as a guide, Brooke lifted the material partway ( not revealing too much, of course ) to examine the injured area ... and realized there was none. Nothing. Not even a mark.
"Claire, what just happened?" She believed firmly in the phrase 'don't look a gift-horse in the mouth,' but this was way too weird to ignore. Claire had died. Brooke's vision was still blurred, and her heart was still racing, and she could pretty safely assume Peter was thinking/feeling the exact same way.
She slid back around, crouched on her knees in front of Claire as she anxiously awaited her friend's answer.