A soft glow resonates through the curtains, spreading the warmth of sunlight into the room as Chloe's eyes groggily open. With her back sprawled out onto her mattress while her head rests comfortably on her pillow, the teen really feels content enough to just sit back and lounge for a little while. She's actually considering just taking the whole day off and just… relaxing.
She's got all the sleep that she needs for right now, but Chloe's got a hankering for that peace and quiet that she just can't find anywhere else, be it the house or the town in general. These days, it seems there's always something going on around Arcadia Bay – usually nothing good. Who would've thought that the same person that wanted to get away from all the quietness and boredom would actually start to miss it?
Lightly swiping some of the bangs out of her eyes, dyed blue a few years after her father was killed in that car accident, Chloe stifles back a yawn with the crook of her arm as she stares up at the ceiling. It's… nice. Chill, even. If the radio was on quietly and playing one of the songs on her old mixtape, then this might even be Chloe's version of a paradise. Sadly though, the idea of David marching up to her room and banging on the door to turn the racket off isn't really settling well with her. It'd be straight up boot camp all over again, as if living under this roof wasn't already like that to begin with.
Feeling the bed rumble beside her, Chloe darts her eyes to her right as she remembers who else had stayed with her last night. Max has never been a stranger to sleeping in, and after what happened at the school last night, Chloe wouldn't be surprised if she ended up sleeping through a nuclear bomb. Or, you know, a tornado.
Yeah… she's still got no idea what to think about that one. But the world can wait for at least a few more hours, right? It's not as if she plans on staying for much longer anyways.
"Out like a light…" she whispers as to not wake her best friend up, smirking as she notices a little bit of drool coming out the side of her mouth. Making a note to tease her about it later, Chloe sighs and slowly swings her legs over the side of the bed. No sense in just lounging in the same spot when she's got the entire skyline to look forward to from the windowsill.
Not caring about her hair being a jumbled mess right now, since that's usually how she wears it anyways, the girl reaches for the clouds as she stretches her arms above her head; getting all of the kinks out of her spine as she grunts slightly. That sleep wasn't nearly as comfortable as she had thought it would be. Perhaps using the same mattress that she's had since before William passed away has really worn out the material and sponginess of it, but honestly, Chloe can't really be bothered to bring it up with her folks. It's not as if they've got the cash for something like that anyways. Her mom and David have a hard enough time paying off the damn mortgage, let alone being able to afford much else.
"…Nnngghh… C-Chlo…e…" Max mumbles in her sleep, subconsciously reaching out her arm on the bed as her friend steps over towards the window.
"God, you're fucking adorable…" Chloe rolls her eyes, finding it really amusing as she indulges the girl and briefly strokes the top of her hand back and forth for a few seconds. "See? Can't get rid of me that easily, Max," she softly murmurs in order to ease her apparent anxiety. Somehow that manages to actually work, as Max's breathing steadies and once again she returns to her blissful sleep. Chloe can't help but feel envious on how easily this is coming to her.
Why can't she be like that? All calm and collected in the face of overwhelming odds? Chloe might talk a big game and be constantly trying to break Max out of her shell to experience new things, but she hates to admit that in some instances… Max Caulfield is actually the braver of the two.
Propping herself up on the ledge and pulling the curtain back slightly to see the sunrise on the horizon, Chloe frowns and ponders this. This kind of crap has been going on for way too long in her life, but it scares the living shit out of her whenever she thinks about it. Chloe struggled for a long time coping with her father being killed (which she still hasn't fully come to terms with, incidentally). Between that, the constant arguments with her mom and "Sergeant Pepper" Madsen, Max's sudden return and Racheal's sudden disappearance, there's been no shortage of anger and pain in the eighteen year old's short life thus far.
But above all, Chloe Price can't help but sometimes feel like the loneliest person in the whole world. That stings more than anything – that emptiness and abandonment that she feels inside. If William hadn't died, then her family wouldn't be shitting bricks like it is now. If Racheal was still in Arcadia Bay, the two of them could've started planning out how they were gonna grow old together under the warm California sun. And then there's Max… if she hadn't just left without even bothering to send over a fucking text message…
…well, that's pretty much the only plus side right now that she's got, as far as Chloe's concerned. And that one ray of sunshine in her dull, dreary life is still grumbling on the other side of her bed, safe and sound. Nothing but the two of them together again, side by side. They could take on the world together if they wanted to, although with Max's newly-found superpower, it would seem that the next time, Chloe would be the one playing the sidekick in their new adventure.
And you know what? She'd be okay with that. It's about time for Ms. Caulfield to start busting out of that shell of hers. Enough years were spent with Chloe being the one to lead them out on their merry adventures, and maybe this time it'd be Max that'll get into trouble for the crazy shenanigans they get up to. Yeah, that'd be alright.
Hearing a muffled yawn coming from the other side of the room, a small smile tugs at the corners of Chloe's lips. She lets her leg dangle over the windowsill and continues to stare out the window for a few seconds before turning her head over to her exhausted friend. "Mornin', Snorlax," she jokes, chuckling as she easily dodges one of the pillows that Max throws at her; smacking the wall and falling harmlessly to the floor. "I think your aim's a little off today. Too many drugs will do that, you know."
"Ha. Ha," Max replies sarcastically, letting the covers slide down as she sits up in the bed. "Ugh, but you might be right about that. I feel awful…" she claims, trying to use her best puppy dog eyes as she pouts out her bottom lip. "We might be a little old for this now, but… paging Dr. Chloe?"
"Did you seriously try to pull that one over me?"
"Yes. Some pancakes or a batch of your home-made waffles would be great right now, Chloe."
"In your dreams, Caulfield. You're not even supposed to be here, remember? That whole stake-out mission and everything?"
It's weird, but Max had actually almost completely forgotten about what had happened last night. Something about being in Chloe's room – all safe and tucked away from the troubles going on everywhere else – was making her feel better than she had been in weeks. The two of them had climbed in through the window last night, not wanting to wake up Joyce or risk leaving the lights on for when David came home. Things had gotten pretty intense after Clementine had left, with three of Blackwell's security guards (including David Madsen, incidentally) searching the halls after having heard some strange noises coming from inside the school. Chloe and Max had escaped by the skin of their teeth, with the former screeching and laughing all the way home at their hella-awesome victory.
Even for Max, that part was pretty cool. It had felt like she was in one of those high-adrenaline action movies that her dad used to watch with her back in Seattle, and she's got to admit that watching Blackwell eat their dust as they drove off into the night was pretty fucking exhilarating.
"I'm sure she's fine."
"Huh?"
"Clem," Chloe mentions, apparently having the ability to read minds as she opens the window a little bit to let the breeze flow through. "She probably just got a little spooked by whatever it is you showed her last night, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Just give her some space – we all need that once in a while."
Blinking a few times, Max stumbles over her words as she sighs deeply, closes her eyes and rustles her hands through her medium-length brown hair. Oh if only Chloe knew… if only she could've seen what had happened with her own eyes. It'd probably get through to her more than most – relating to having a parent get killed, that is. Max still has a hard time coming to terms with how the two of them wound up in Georgia in the first place, let alone figuring out that they inadvertently changed the timeline into something quite possibly worse than what it was before. With Carver still at large, there's no telling what havoc he could be reeking back out in Atlanta, not to mention how horrible Clementine must feel now that her parents' killer is back on the loose.
Chloe had once called her a superhero, but the girl certainly isn't feeling so super right now.
"Did anyone see us come in last night?" Max asks suddenly, deciding to change the subject before things become too melodramatic. That's the last thing she would need right now.
Shaking her head and tapping on the glass, Chloe rolls open the window to allow the breeze to flow inside. Her backyard smells like freshly-cut grass and a hint of pine tree, but that's likely coming from the neighbour's yard next door. The Price backyard has usually stayed empty over the past few years, with Max having been the first one on that swing since she had left for Seattle nearly five years ago.
"Doubt it – one of 'em would be banging on the door trying to strangle me if they did," she mentions, referring obviously to Joyce and David as she rolls her eyes. "Just stop worrying about it, alright? We're fine. And besides," she adds, watching Max step out of the bed and wipe some of the sleep from her eyes, "it's not as if it was breaking and entering, right? I still live here and all…"
"At this rate you'll probably be bunking with me," Max jokes as she joins her best friend on the ledge; overlooking the skyline as she leans her head on Chloe's shoulder. "Thanks, though. I think I'm gonna go visit Kate again after school today. It's been way too long now, and I wouldn't want her to feel abandoned. Wanna tag along?"
With a knowing smirk upon her lips, Chloe looks down at her friend with skepticism. "Aren't you still suspended though?"
"…shit."
"Look at you, fucking rebel! You've gotta be the first person I've known trying to break yourself back into class!"
"Ha, yeah… Mr. Jefferson would probably kill me if he found out that I – "
Interrupted and startled by a sudden bang coming from the side of the house, Max nearly stumbles out the window before collecting herself and searching around for whatever that noise might've been.
"God damn it, no…" Chloe shudders, sporting a deeply concerned scowl as she sprints over to her clothes pile and pulls out her usual attire; dressing herself so quickly that all Max can see is a frenzied blur.
"Chloe, what are you – "
"Just hurry and come downstairs, alright?" she interrupts, pointing over to her closet as she zips up her jacket. It's a lot colder outside than it's been over the past few weeks. "Rachel left a few outfits in there that you can use… don't worry about it. She'd…" Chloe stops herself, shaking her head and turning away from Max before shutting the door behind her and sprinting down the stairs; nearly knocking into Joyce as she bounds the steps two at a time.
It pains her to see the girl still struggling over Rachel's disappearance, and Max can't help but scold herself over not having already started looking into this sooner. They had come into Blackwell late at night with the original intention of digging up any info they could on the stuff relating to Rachel and Kate, only to end up leaving early with neither of those things. Max had been so shaken up after Clementine sprinted home that Chloe really had no choice but to get them both out of there as soon as possible, and although she hadn't said it directly, Max can tell that Chloe felt a little annoyed about that. In hindsight, it seems pretty selfish.
Just add that to the huge list of things I need to pay her back for… she mulls to herself, groaning slightly before venturing into the closet to get a look at what she's dealing with here.
Hmm… red and black plaid? Not too shabby…
Knock-knock-knock-knock!
"Clem?" Lee calls out, not wanting to intrude on the girl's privacy in any way. Despite this technically being his house, he still has a hope that one day she'll also accept it as her own as well. And that starts with the little things. "Honey, mind if I come in for a little bit? I think, uhh… maybe we ought to talk some more here. Help straighten each other out."
A deafening silence greets him as the nutty professor awaits some kind of response for a few seconds, so, assuming that that calls as an invitation for him to come inside, Lee creaks open the door a little bit before sliding his head inside. What he sees inside alarms him – curtains closed, room dark and messy, various clothes and a bunch of her drawings scattered about the floor.
Sounds like an average teenage room, right? Well, Lee may not have been around the girl back home as much as he'd like to have been, but even he knows that Clem herself isn't this… depressed normally. She'd have her moments from time to time, like most people, but never to the point that she'd simply be laying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling and looking almost as if she had just died right under his nose.
Not giving off much of a reaction except squinting her eyes a little as Lee draws the curtains back, letting the morning sun fill the dreary room, Clementine continues to sit there unmoving as Lee feels her forehead.
"…well, you aren't feverish," he mentions, hoping that'll spark some conversation out of the girl as she simply stares off into space. "Come on, Clem. It's not healthy to just sit and take all of this on by yourself. Let me help you, sweet pea. What's going on?"
Breath hitching in her throat, Clem can't find her voice as she lightly shakes her head. How do you try to tell somebody a secret like this?
"You…" she squeaks out, clenching her left hand into a fist, "…you wouldn't understand…"
"Mmm… yeah, I suppose you're right. Can't say that I'd ever gone through something like this at your age," he agrees with a hint of sadness, obviously unable to get Clem's true meaning behind those words. And who could blame him? He'd think she was a freak if she had just openly admitted that she and a friend had gone back in time to try and save her parents' lives. "But… I'm more than willing to try."
Glancing at him for a moment, Clementine half expects there to be some kind of deceit or mistrust. That, unfortunately, is what she's been getting used to over the past year or so, if not more – people making all kinds of lies and false promises. She thought that Max was given this time control power to use for good, but instead… all that came out of it was a future even worse than what it was before. She had seen the newspaper clippings stapled furiously in one of her scrapbooks late last night: KILLER ON THE LOOSE! WILLIAM CARVER MURDERS TWO!
That one stung like a bitch. Still does, in fact.
"How do you move on from something like this?" she whispers, nearly having to repeat herself with her voice sounding so frail and quiet. She had spent so much time screaming and bawling into her pillow last night that she had been surprised Lee didn't barge in earlier, but she's grateful now that he hadn't seen her in such a pathetic display. She hates it when people see her when her guard's down – it's always been a bit of a pet peeve with her.
She knows that Lee is also a victim in this, seeing's how Ed was his brother and all, but honestly, that's just making the whole thing feel even worse. That's two lives struck by one man's selfish actions now. Four when you count the deceased. If Clementine had had her way, Carver would've hung from that fucking light post she and Max were hiding behind.
Naturally, she doesn't say any of this to Lee.
"Under normal circumstances, I'd probably say that it's better to talk about what happened and get it all off your chest… but I don't think you wanna do that right now," Lee insinuates, striking the nail right on the head with that one. "Whenever I'm feeling down in the dumps, I usually try to find things to take my mind off of it. Go out for a jog, sit on the beach and watch the whales go by, things like that."
Surprisingly, a small smirk graces Clementine's lips as Lee glances over expectantly. "Whale watching?"
"Yep. It's great for killing time, and it's a pretty decent pastime if you know where to find the best spots. Besides," he adds, over-exaggerating as he looks both ways to make sure no one else is looking, "sometimes I hide behind the evergreen trees and scare the living daylights out of the kids."
"You're kidding."
"Am I? Who do you think the sasquatch of Arcadia Bay is? I didn't think they'd actually take it so seriously, let alone hang up expedition posters at the diner, but now it's all just sort of a big game I'm playing," Lee explains, grinning with wicked delight. "I've even left fake tracks and fur lying around in the forest for some of them to find – best scavenger hunt of all time."
Eliciting more than a few chuckles out of the young girl, Lee feels content enough to sit back and feel relieved that, at least temporarily, he's gotten the desired effect. Lifting someone out of a depression is never an easy task, let alone one as deep and permeating as this one, but he isn't just going to sit back and watch the closest thing he's got to a daughter wallow in pitiful despair. That's a dangerous pit for her to fall into.
Lee had never realized though just how much Clementine had grown up in such a short period of time, and although that might have something to do with the fact that prior to this he had only seen her every couple of years, it's still true. He supposes that she kind of had to, given the circumstances. Not every child has had both of their parents murdered and been forced to move across the country to a new home, leaving everything she had ever known and loved behind.
He's been trying, but helping her adjust to things around here hasn't been easy. There've been quite a few roadblocks along the way, mainly to do with Blackwell and it's… rather eccentric inhabitants. But there has been at least some hope for renewal – she wasn't quite clear on the details, but over dinner the other night, Clem had mentioned that she had actually made a few friends along the way. Two in particular, now that he thinks about it. One she said was a quiet girl, really into photography – Lee had thought at the time that Clementine was actually kind of describing herself when she gave out her description. The other sounded to Lee like a bit of a troublemaker. Loyal and kind-hearted, but still a troublemaker. Lee wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that initially, but he supposed that (as bad as it might sound) beggars can't be choosers.
She hasn't brought either of them up since, and hasn't had either of them over at the house yet, so it's difficult for Lee to make a judgement call. He himself has had many students in his classes who looked like complete outcasts in society turn out to be some of his best and brightest students.
"I called the school ahead of time and told them you wouldn't be there today," he informs her as Clementine stays quiet for a bit. He didn't have to do that… "But that doesn't mean you can stay here in bed all day. C'mon, how about you come downstairs for some breakfast? It's too nice outside to be cooped up in here."
Knowing that a refusal would probably just disappoint her uncle, Clementine swallows and nods quietly; watching as Lee smiles and leaves her in momentary solace. Lee's always been her favourite relative, and that's not just because he'd let her stay home when she needed it. It was all of that – the hospitality, the understanding, the love. He could give her peace of mind when few others could do the same. Lee had that effect on most people, but the connection they have developed in such a short period of time… it was special. Clem could always come home knowing that she wasn't alone out in this strange, foreign land.
Although, come to think of it, she would appreciate it more if Lee wasn't always so damn preoccupied with his work to come home at a decent hour. However, concern for his wellbeing is more entrenched in that want than her own personal needs. Eleven at night is pushing it, especially when the guy has to hop back in his car at eight in the morning the next day.
The talk had been distracting her from the very reason that she was up here in the first place. Clem isn't willing to go out and potentially face Max Caulfield again, not after what went down. She might accidentally punch her in the face on instinct alone. And she feels incredibly selfish for thinking that way.
She doesn't remember a whole lot after getting dragged to the truck… there was a whole lot of yelling and screaming, the headlights were shining on the bodies of her parents even though reports say that she still wasn't anywhere near the scene.
Which is total bullshit… isn't it? Weren't she and Max trailing Carver and getting ready to pounce? What could've gone wrong?
A knock on the front door down below aggravates her growing headache even further, but it at least gives Clementine an excuse to hop out of the bed. Shivering at how chilly the air is this morning, and making a note of it to question Lee later on why he wanted the house to be at iceberg temperatures, Clementine rubs her arms and heads over towards the window. Squinting as the first rays of sunshine hit her square in the eyes, Clementine waits for a few seconds before trying to figure out who'd be knocking at this hour. If it's Chloe or Max, Clem's pretty sure that she'll either flip her shit or hop out the window.
Hmm… all she can see is Lee's beat-up piece of junk in the driveway, so it's really no indication as to who it might be. And her friends probably wouldn't bother to bug her and come all the way out here without a text first. They aren't exactly on the best terms after all, and to basically come over and invite themselves in now would be a little weird.
The voices, although muffled from the door blocking off the sound, sound more like a couple of men than either Chloe or Max though, but still, her curiosity is piqued.
Wanting to find out for herself, Clem quickly pulls out a set of clothes from the closet and straps them on, not caring what they look like or any of that crap. Once that's finished, she carefully and quietly opens her door and pokes her head out to see who it might be.
"Can I get you fellas anything? Tea? Coffee?"
"Coffee, and a couple of mugs would be great, thank you."
Cops – shit! The uniforms they're in are unmistakeable! But why would they be showing up at her door like this? They've really got nothing to hide – no contraband or anything like that, unless Chloe had sneakily planted some marijuana on her and then tipped off the closest patrol, but that seems unlikely. Even though technically it's still in the process of getting legalized, police officers around here are typically pretty laid-back on that kind of thing. Either that, or they're just lazy as fuck and dumb as a stump. Clem isn't sure which.
Could it be Lee that they're after? Has he done something that would taint Clementine's near-perfect image of him?
Or maybe it's…
"So," Lee begins, coming back slowly with a trio of mugs that he scrambled together from the cupboard; the steam billowing from the top as he sets them down on the table, "what can I do for you guys? Like I said before, I didn't really know him that well. Just one of the guys who worked down at the auto shop."
"When you were there, did he ever say anything to you? Any peculiar behaviours or indications that he might've been in trouble?"
"We never really spoke, honestly. He didn't really seem like he wanted to be there, but other than that I don't know much."
"What about the other two men? Luke? Nick? How well do you know them?" the first officer she sees, a kindly yet stern looking fellow with balding hair and wrinkled skin, asks. In the seat next to him sits an average-built, younger man with his arms folded across his chest, although Clementine gets the feeling that he's a bit new to the job. The way he's holding himself up marks him as someone trying to hard to impress his superiors, and trying to do everything far too much by the book. Sometimes you need to keep some of the human aspect with you instead of just being the robotic, law-abiding citizen.
Appalled, Lee frowns and folds his arms crossly as well. "Seriously? You think they…?" he stutters, shaking his head at the mere suggestion of such a thing. "No, there's absolutely no way. I taught those two knuckleheads myself – they're good kids, and I'm more than willing to vouch for them if that's what this is about."
"You seem a little quick to defend them," the second officer suspiciously asks, but Lee doesn't take the bait. Instead, much to her horror, Lee finds his saving grace peeping in at them from her room near the top of the stairs. He waves her over and calls out her name, causing the two officers to turn around and face her direction. "Clem!" he hollers, inviting her over as she subconsciously curses his name. "Sweet pea, there's a whole cupboard full of cereal, bagels, things like that. Oh, and help yourself to some of the waffles if you'd prefer those. They're kind of buried in the back of the freezer."
Rolling her eyes when none of them are looking, Clementine knows exactly what the guy's doing. Stalling – she's tried to do it too a thousand times before, but never in front of a couple of police officers. That would be a new one.
"Thanks…" she replies softly, making sure not to make eye contact with the two strangers as she preoccupies herself with pouring a bowl of cereal. She still thinks that anything with the word "bran" in the name ends up tasting like cardboard, but right now she can't care less. All she needs to do is get away from the police.
Because this entire time, she's been starting to clue in to what they might be doing out in the neighbourhood.
"Maybe you could give us some insight here, ma'am. Luke and Nick said that you know them fairly well," the younger cop inquires as Clem's body tenses up. "We've been looking for a man – fairly tall, average build, dirty blonde hair and a scruffy beard. Owned an RV that we found outside a local junkyard. Did you happen to know Frank Bowers?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
"Hey now, come on. Don't drag her into this – she's just a kid," Lee defends, making Clementine grin slightly in appreciation when she doesn't answer right away. "She just moved here a little while ago, anyways! How would she know where to look? Or even who it is you're talking about?"
Bless your soul, Lee, Clementine internally praises. Even though technically he did just drag her into this mess, he didn't do it on purpose, she's sure. There's nobody around that she'd rather have in her corner.
Ignoring Lee's concerns, the cop probes on as if he hadn't even heard him at all. "Sorry to trouble you, but we need all the info we can spare. Every little bit adds up – Frank's been missing for about a week now," he explains as Clementine is forced to turn around. So much for taking the cereal and racing back up the staircase.
"…never heard of him," she fibs, watching in horror as the younger officer stares her down suspiciously. Lee doesn't approve, but right now there isn't a whole lot that he can do to avert the situation. "Sorry. I only know Luke and Nick from seeing them around town. I didn't know that someone got killed around here – that's pretty scary."
The man's accusatory frown actually grows deeper, if that was even possible, as leans forward with his arms crossed across his chest.
"We never said he got killed."
Oh fuck, no, Clementine dreads, feeling her stomach bubble in anxiety as she accidentally drops the bowl onto the floor; spilling its contents everywhere. Thankfully she hadn't poured the milk yet, but Clem's looking as pasty as a satin sheet. Doesn't help when the very same officer comes over to help her clean up the mess, obviously trying to get a read on what the girl might be hiding.
"Sigh… Dan, don't be paranoid. You're scaring her… hell, you're scaring me too."
"Greg, not now."
"Don't forget, boy – you're still on your probationary period. Everything you do gets recorded by me," Greg (the nice policeman, Clementine discovers) warns, but easing the tension over a little bit later as he turns his gaze towards Clementine again. "Don't mind Dan, Clementine. He's new. Hasn't really been neutered yet by the position."
"Hmph," Dan grunts, relenting.
Shaking his head with a laugh, Dan continues, seeing that Lee is about five seconds away from just kicking the both of them out of the house. "Thanks for being patient, Clementine. We're just trying to find this man, that's all. Too many people in Arcadia Bay have wound up missing or worse in the past few months. Everyone's been on edge."
"…yeah…" Clementine weakly replies, dumping her bowl into the sink after all of the pieces have been picked up and telling them that she's going to use the washroom. Thinking nothing of it, the police continue their little chat with a disgruntled Lee as Clem quickly shuts the door behind her.
Frank?! Are you friggin' kidding me?! she screams inside of her head, nearly pulling her hair out as she takes a few deep breaths. Okay… just chill, Clem. This wasn't you, and it wasn't your fault. You didn't pull the trigger, and Max had no other choice. It was total self defense… and you have just lied about seeing any of it. Great.
Not wanting to risk anything, and having no desire to go back out into the kitchen for fear of them being there, the best course of action that Clem sees is to (begrudgingly, especially considering her mixed feelings towards the pair right now) find Max and Chloe so that she can warn them about what just happened. A simple text message might suffice, but right now she's a little too freaked out to even type out a straight sentence together. No, they need to hear something this important for themselves so that they'll fully appreciate and understand what's at stake here.
Besides, now that she's withheld evidence to a pair of Arcadia Bay police officers, she's just as guilty by association as they are. Obstruction of justice, she's pretty sure it's called. And there's no way she's going to prison – not for something that she didn't even do.
Deciding that the only logical thing right now would be to find a way out, she climbs on top of the toilet seat and undoes the latches securing the window in place. She cringes hard as she accidentally knocks over an old picture frame that was hanging close by, she assures Lee that she's fine as he knocks on the door.
"You sure?"
"Yeah! No worries!"
Once she's satisfied that he's left towards the hallway, no doubt talking to the officers again as they grill him further for information, she pulls the glass window all the way up and uses her upper body strength to swing her way out; crashing to the grass at the side of the house as Lee calls out towards her again. Not giving a response this time, she grits her teeth and curses herself for putting her guardian in this position. This isn't fair, it isn't right. Now he has to fend for himself against the police who are no doubt wondering what the hell she's doing in the bathroom making such a ruckus.
She feels vulnerable somehow without her ball cap, having left it on her dresser drawer by mistake, but there's no time for her to go back inside and grab it. How would she ever explain hopping out of her own window?
"Fuck… why didn't I just say that I was going to school? Stupid…" she mutters, starting at a brisk run into the neighbour's backyard before continuing to hop some fences. She knows the forest behind them now like the back of her hand after going through it almost every day since she had arrived, and now it seems that they're going to have to be her lifeline.
Knowing that she had actually left her phone in the front pocket of her jeans, Clementine sighs and hops over a log; nearly doing a face-plant in the mud as she tries to keep her nerves down.
Deep down, she realizes that she just fucked up big time.
