She wished that she had her sketch book.
She'd promised Jace that she would stay in the infirmary, but she hadn't taken the time to ponder on just how bored she would be, waiting for his return.
It suddenly dawned on her that she was not shocked, or dismayed by any of the things Jace had told her.
It was like she had been told something that she had already known.
She wasn't Clary Fray.
What was it Jace had called her? Clary Fairchild?
The name from her dream, except that it wasn't a dream.
It was a memory.
Jace was the boy from the balcony, the one who had tried to be annoyed over her throwing rocks at his window so late in the night.
She had been so sure that he was going to kiss her that night.
She and Isabelle had talked about it for weeks afterwards.
Clary blinked, the recollections disappearing just as quickly as they had come back to her.
If she was Clary Fairchild...
Would she ever be able to remember?
A familiar ring filled the air. Her phone. Simon.
"Simon." She breathed a sigh of relief.
"How come you haven't answered your phone in three days?"
"Things are..." Clary winced. How could she possibly explain any of this to him? "All ripped apart..."
"Where are you?" Simon demanded. He sounded annoyed, worried, anxious. "Find My Friends says your phone is in an abandoned church on Deighton. I'm outside."
She raced to the window.
There he was, standing on the overgrown lawn of what he saw as a chapel.
He can't see through the glamour. Clary thought.
A smile spread across her face. "I see you."
"I don't see you."
"Give me five minutes. I have to get dressed."
"Dressed?" Simon repeated cautiously. "What are you doing undressed in an abandoned church? Clary... Is there... Is there a meth problem we have to talk about?"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Simon, just give me five minutes, okay?"
Clary found the clothes Jace had mentioned lying across the bed beside her own.
She rose to her feet, wincing slightly. She pulled on a pair of sandblasted jeans, soft as worn paper, and a blue tank top with a design of Chinese flowers sewn across the front. Though faded, several paint stains seemed to be permanently imbedded into the fabric, and there was a fixed hole on the right side, as if someone had sewn it shut more than once.
They fit her perfectly, almost as if...
Almost as if they had been made for her.