“You’re okay,” she whispered. “I’ll protect you.” I reached out, my throat tight as I brushed hair away from her face, a thought entering my mind that the real Clara might still be behind all of this darkness that had invaded her. But then she dropped me on the floor and stood up, clapping her hands together. “Silly boy, don’t say naughty things to Daddy again.”
The two versions of herself are at war.
