“I don’t know,” I groaned, flopping back on the mat. “I’m scared.” “What are you scared of?” Clementine asked, her eyes wide. “Mostly that I’ll freak out… that it will remind me of what happened at the DA.” My voice was a hoarse whisper, my gaze focused on a crack in the cement brick wall. Clementine’s hand gently landed on top of mine. “I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I’m sorry it happened.”
