Claire is careful not to disturb the salt on her windowsill as she pulls open the drapes and peers out at the parking lot and the road that passes them by. This is the sixth time in twenty minutes that she’s jumped up and run to the window, heart pounding with hope. The sound of any and every care driving by or pulling in brings her up to see if that black monstrosity that Dean calls a car has finally arrived. She has yet to see sign of it.
Her earlier relief had morphed into a nervous excitement, but as the hours passed her by it eventually gave way simply to nervousness. After the last few years she knows all too well that it takes time, and lots of it, to get anywhere. Of course, this is no comfort to a girl who has been on her own for too long, and she finds herself wondering if something has happened, something terrible, something unforseen.
She misses the safety her mom provided, and she misses the security of knowing that she was only a prayer away from rescue. She feels as lost and alone as she did when Jimmy originally left, only now she doesn’t even have someone to help her get through it. Well, someone in person. There’s only so much phone calls and text messages can do to reassure her.
She looks out the window again.