Say A Prayer For Me

Author's Note: Within this chapter, the main character, Claire, reads a book of poetry. The poem that she reads in the book is not a poem written by me. Instead, it is written by a fellow Vocal author, Cathy Holmes. The poem, "Screaming Flowers", is used with her express permission. Her creativity deserves the honor of recognition. Thank you, Cathy!

Claire kept the Prius going as fast as she could and stuck to the back roads. No pursuit was observed, to her genuine surprise, as she sped down Geryville Pike. A few minutes later and the purple vehicle squealed onto Tagart Road. She had decided to abandon the car at the little league baseball fields and make her way to her old apartment on foot. Claire wasn’t sure what to expect when she got there, but all that had happened since she woke up this morning told her that it was bound to be messy.

As Tagart Road became Bank Street at the intersection that was the town edge proper, Claire unholstered her Hellcat and cocked it. She chose to stay on Bank Street until she reached the alley that ran between the Bobby Henson Appliance Store and the Post Office on Fourth Street. Not even hazarding a guess as to who might be in the apartment, aside from her last other, Claire didn’t want to be spotted by anybody that may be looking out the windows.

The final house before the post office had no garage and no fence, so she cut off the rest of the alley by going through the yard and into the post office parking lot. It was eerily quiet, and Claire wondered if she was still within the Exclusion Zone. A lack of pursuit had her leaning towards not still being in violation, but, again, things were predictably weird. She assumed that she was still in danger from the ‘super soldiers’.

At the dock she saw a severely rusted postal truck. Why is this starting to feel like a cliché cop show? She sighed, shrugged her shoulders weakly, and set herself for carefully investigating the inside of the truck. Before she could take a peek, though, she heard a noise come from inside. Claire closed her eyes and made ready to aim and fire at whoever was inside. Popping up and aiming, she heard children's’ voices amid the gaining ruckus. Then a familiar voice overcame the children.

“Julie?” Claire asked, her voice wavering with fear and hope.

“Claire?!” The confused voice came only a moment before the eyes came out of the shadow. “What are you doing here? How did you get away?”

“Get away? Were you at the funhouse?”

Julie turned and silenced the children with a look, then made her way to the sliding side door of the truck. But as soon as the door was open, Claire was there embracing her like a long lost friend.

“I missed you so much, Julie!” she whisper-screamed in the woman’s ear.

With a nervous laugh, Julie returned the embrace, but answered Claire’s question with another question. “Did you say funhouse? It’s been shut down for months. Why would I be there?”

Claire returned the nervous laugh and smiled. “You asked me if I got away. I assume you meant the soldiers I got away from at the funhouse.”

“But why were you at the funhouse? Claire, how’d you get out of your apartment? What is going on?” Julie’s fear was audibly increasing.

Claire shook her head in rising dismay, “Julie, just tell me what happened. Why are you hiding here?”

“Ummm…” and she swallowed hard, trying to form the words. “This guy, dressed all in black… he looked like he was in the military. But he knocks at my door and tells me to pack up and get out. I told him that I wasn’t about to give up my home to anybody. Not the military… nobody.”

Julie hesitated again, tears forming in her eyes. “He said that he had business with the woman upstairs and that it would be best if I wasn’t around. Then he pulled a gun on me.” Her voice began to waver, Claire could feel the fear that Julie had felt in that moment. “I stood my ground. I even asked if it was because the Exclusion Zone was being expanded. He told me to shutup. Claire…” She turned her eyes to Claire, the tears flowing freely now, “his eyes glowed red!”

Son of a bitch! Dean Winchester made his voice loud and clear on that one. What the hell was he doing up there? It was her own voice that asked this question. “Who else is up there, Julie?”

Julie heard the urgency in her voice, “Just you and John.”

“John… Friedman?” Claire couldn’t help the disgust that mingled with her curiosity. “Why would John Friedman be alone with me?”

The tears stopped for a moment, and the confusion returned to Julie’s face. “Why wouldn’t he be, Claire? You two have been together for a long time?”

“Oh, God!” and the disgust was thick enough to cut with knife.

“I know, right? I don’t understand why you’re still with that asswipe,” said Julie, her words were an attempt to comfort Claire through her fear.

Claire closed her eyes and sighed. She had to get Julie and her kids out of here. It was time for a little truth and a little ‘magic’. She only hoped she could pull it off.

“Julie, I’m not the Claire you know,” her words were measured and deliberate. “The Claire that you know is still upstairs in that apartment, and I have to go to her. I know you don’t believe me, but you have to trust me.”

“I… don’t under-, what do you mean, Claire?”

“You wouldn’t understand it, Julie. At least, not with a short explanation,” and she looked the woman in the eyes. She focused on the power of the souls within her and agitated them, and as they swirled within her, Claire’s eyes flashed purple.

Julie’s fear exploded out of her, but she kept her scream muted. Jerking herself away from Claire, she raised her arms to protect her children still in the back of the postal truck. “What are you?!”

“There’s no time to explain,” the authority in her voice clear and forceful. “You and the kids must come with me. I will get you out of danger.”

“I…” and shook her head in defiance. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Claire softened her expression and stepped closer to her friend. “Julie, you have to trust me. You helped me when I needed it, and you didn’t even know me then. Let me return the favor. You deserve it.”

She lowered her arms and looked Claire up and down. Her face changed slowly from abject fear to a measure of understanding. Julie’s head tilted as her understanding continued to grow. Considering what she had seen from the man at her door, and now from her friend, she was willing to have a little faith. There was something much bigger going on here, far beyond even the unexpected reason for the Exclusion Zone they’ve had to live with for the last six months. She would go along with Claire, she decided, and turned to her two children to get them out of the truck.

As she placed the three side-by-side, she said, “Thank you for letting me help you. I promise you and the kids will be safe. Now, hold hands with each other.”

Claire joined the line, closed her eyes, and focused. She mentally paged through the souls within her, and it didn’t take long to find Anne. The vibrations within her became familiar and she saw the memories of her time at Anne’s flash through her mind. But it was the structure of the vibrations she concentrated on. Like adjusting a radio, she let the vibrations flow out of her.

“Halt! You are under arrest for violation of the Exclusion Zone and resisting! Don’t move!”

Claire kept her eyes closed and told her companions, “Don’t worry about them. In a moment, they won’t even be there.”

“Mommy,” Julie’s youngest, a boy of seven, pleaded.

“Everybody take a step forward on the count of three. One… two… three!”

The four stepped forward and disappeared from the soldiers view in a flash of white. When Claire opened her eyes, she saw the looks of confusion on the others’ faces. She had brought them to Anne’s timeline. When Claire had left four weeks ago, the headbangers virus had just begun over in Africa. She had no idea how bad it had gotten since, but she felt that this was the safest place for her friend. The only problem was that there were now two Julies here. It’s a problem for another time, she thought.

Claire turned to them and spoke carefully. “This is not the world you know. But it’s safe here, I promise. Go to 224 Stonehaven, in Red Hill. You’ll find Eric Wells there. He was my husband in this world. You’ll be safe.”

Julie’s eyes widened in fear. “Eric Wells?! The wife killer! How could we possibly be safe with him!”

Claire really didn’t have time for this, and she made her voice as commanding as she could. “Julie, in this world, Eric a terrific man, and a grieving widow. I am dead here, but you will be safe. Go!” She rushed forward and embraced her friend, lucky to have seen her once again. “Go, Julie! I love you.”

“What about you?” Julie asked through the hug.

“I have business with your red-eyed friend to finish. Don’t worry about me.” The two women pulled back from their embrace and Claire mouthed the word ‘go’ to her.

* * *

“We have a bit of a situation here, don’t we?” asked Azrael. He looked around the apartment’s kitchen at the three others that were with him. Of course, the back of Azrael’s mind was preoccupied with the fact that he had defied Yehwah’s summons for some time. At their last meeting, his lord had reasserted his power to a painful result. Considering how out of control the timelines had gotten, there was no doubt that the pain he would suffer at their next meeting would be incredibly more.

But he looked over the people in the room with him now. There was John Friedman, the stupid, overweight man who represented the final other in the Yehwah succession. The human had an air of self-importance and self-satisfaction, despite being a near useless man. He could barely hold a job, and he felt that his status as a volunteer firefighter gave him the reason to dismiss his other failures. Glasses hid his beady little eyes, and his fattened cheeks made his short-cropped hair look out of place. But much like the first John he had met on this long quest of succession, he had an internal hatred and desire for power that led Yehwah to choose him in the first place.

There was Claire Hutchins, as well. Petite, but convicted, Azrael had as much of a difficult time as any other trying to understand why she was with Friedman. She stared at him defiantly, seeming to know more about this whole situation than she should. Claire had age lines on her face that added beauty, and they gave her blue eyes a wisdom that wasn’t a façade. Her back was straight as an arrow as she sat at the table, accentuating the broad shoulders that sat below her dirty blonde hair. She would be a formidable adversary as Yahweh, and she could possibly ruin the unbalance that Yehwah had worked on for nearly a thousand years. But there was something more about her that Azrael just couldn’t put a finger on.

Finally, leaning against the doorway in the kitchen, stood his own adversary, Gabriel. Still wearing his trench coat and fedora, he, like Claire, stared at him in defiance. Gabriel was also the one that threw this whole situation into incomprehensible chaos. He was Belphegor’s killer, and the disruptions in the timelines that resulted from his brother’s death had put the entire universe in jeopardy. Even the prime timeline appeared to be in danger. Yet, despite the unknown future, Gabriel still had the audacity to stand there with arrogance.

“I still don’t understand what’s going on here,” said John.

Azrael shook his head in irritation. “Of course, you don’t! You’re a moron. I could probably explain this to you a thousand times, and you’d still be confused about it.” He rolled eyes and looked to Gabriel.

The angel’s British accent came made his deliberate speech all the more irritating to Azrael. “Don’t look at me, brother. The only one you can kill is John, and I’m fast enough to prevent you from doing that. And you can’t kill Claire, just as I can’t kill John, because of the rules of succession. So… we wait.” Gabriel spread his arms as he finished to make the point hit home.

“So, we just sit here?” asked Claire with indignance. “What are we waiting for? I have shit that I have to do.”

“We’re waiting for your prime, Claire. She is the wild card, and you are the last of her others. She should be along soon enough.” Gabriel flashed a wry smile to all of them.

“We have to die?” John said this statement blankly, and the rest of the company seemed to shake their heads in unison.

“Yes, you twit,” answered Gabriel. He turned his incredulous grin on Azrael. “How could your boss ever pick somebody so utterly stupid?”

Azrael laughed so loudly it startled the humans. “Your guess is as good as mine, Gabriel.” There was no need to divulge anything to him, though. If Gabriel didn’t understand, then he wasn’t as clever as Azrael had taken him to be. Then his face changed altogether. “How do you know she is last?”

“I have my ways…”

“Well, do you know how long we have to wait?” It was Claire this time, her annoyance clear. It was clear that she wasn’t buying any of this, and neither the angel, nor the demon, would change her mind.

“You know,” Gabriel began, his indignance towards her as evident as her annoyance towards him, “so many of your others were much more open-minded about all of this. You’ve been spending too much time around this bloke.” He nodded towards John.

“You expect me to believe that you two are supernatural beings? An angel and a demon?” Her voice gained volume as she spoke.

Gabriel snorted in derision, “The flashy eyes aren’t proof enough for you? Aren’t you a fan of the Supernatural television show? What about this whole Exclusion Zone thing your world has going on? What proof of ‘beyond the natural’ do you need?”

“Give it up, Gabriel,” said Azrael, sounding almost forlorn. “Does it really matter? They’re both gonna die anyway.”

John began to cry softly at Azrael’s words. Claire was clearly incensed and was approaching angry. “Stop being a fucking baby. We… are… done! Why did I waste so much time on you?”

John cried harder as she stood up and went to her cell phone on the counter. She busied herself on it as the awkward silence grew with each sob from John. Then she put the phone down, turned back towards them, and leaned against the counter. The music started in the next moment.

* * *

Claire watched as Julie and the kids walked down the alley, and she prayed silently that they’d be alright. The Julie in this timeline was happily married and lived out past Hereford, many miles away. How this would be reconciled should she actually become Yahweh, Claire didn’t know. At the moment, however, having two Julies in the same timeline was not high on the priority list.

She turned away from her friend and focused her mind. No longer fearing being spied from a window, Claire walked up to Main Street and made her way to the front of the home that served as her apartment. It was midday on a Monday, so she had the hope that the apartment was empty, its tenants at work. Standing at the door, she turned the knob. A small push told her that the door had not been locked, and Claire opened the door and stepped quietly inside.

It felt eerily familiar, the two shelves she remembered were on the wall, the small Walmart shelving unit was in the corner, and the creaking of the cheap laminate flooring sounded exactly the same. Claire wondered who lived here, since Eric and Anne lived in Red Hill. How could things seem so familiar if she didn’t know the residents? She listened as she stood still, trying to hear if anybody was upstairs. But all she heard was more silence. Cocking the Hellcat, Claire slowly began to climb the stairs.

She could feel her other, the ‘distance’ between the timelines feeling, to her, like nothing more than a thin veil. Could I see through that veil? The thought was fleeting, but important. Holding the pistol at the ready, Claire came to the top of stairs and shifted her eyes quickly from kitchen to living room to hallway. Returning her gaze to the living room, she took a couple of steps forward and entered the room. Were it not for the horrible things she’d already seen and done on this journey, what she saw now would have made her run for the toilet.

Claire didn’t know the person, but she felt sorry for them anyway. The headbangers virus had made it to the Valley. The man she saw had banged his head through his glass coffee table, large shards of it sticking out of the remnants of his skull, his brains appeared popped like a gigantic pimple. Bowing her head in respect, Claire made the sign of the cross and asked God to favor the man who died needlessly. It was a matter of habit. I’ll do it even though I know the truth about God, this man deserves that much.

Turning away from the living room horror, Claire stepped into the kitchen. This was it. The veil was incredibly thin here. Without seeing them, she could sense where everybody was in the kitchen. Gabriel stood in the doorway, John’s killer sat at the table opposite the counter and cabinets, John sat facing his killer, and her other stood at the counter next to the refrigerator. It was certainly not what she expected, but, then again, very little of this whole journey was what she expected. I made friends with Lucifer, for Christ’s sake! She took a moment to think…

Claire could hear music, and she knew it was coming from the other timeline. It was not a song that she would choose, Sponge was more Eric’s style, but she smiled about how appropriate it seemed in the situation as the song’s chorus began:

“Say a prayer for me! (Say a prayer for me)

Say a prayer for me!

Say a prayer for me! (Say a prayer for me)

I’m buried by the sound…

Of world of human wreckage.

In a world of human wreckage.

In a world of human wreckage.

Where I’m lost and I’m found and I can’t touch the ground

I’m plowed into the sound…”

Placing herself behind where she could feel John Friedman was sitting, Claire put the gun to where his head would be. She closed her eyes to find her courage and have some last minute thoughts. Gabriel had killed Belphegor, which threw the balance way out of whack and threatened all of creation. Before that had happened, Yehwah had been manipulating the balance to his favor in very small ways for a thousand years. If I stop the Yehwah succession, how much crazier will things get? How much crazier can they get, Claire? The pistol in her hand began to shake. She couldn’t see anything beyond the killing of John Friedman. There was nothing to expect, the road ahead was completely blurred. She came into this ordeal blind and knowing nothing. And now that she knew more than she ever wanted about this ordeal, nothing had changed. She was still blind.

I think the world’s gonna end bloody. But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin’. Claire nodded at the words of Dean Winchester, her only constant companion on this crazy quest. It was time…

* * *

“Will I wake up, some dream I made up

No, I guess it’s reality…”

As the singer drew out the final syllable of the song, Azrael turned to Claire. “Thank God for small favors. That song is absolutely terrible!” The demon looked down at his hands that were fidgeting. “So, Gabriel…”

The rest of his question never left his mouth. The kitchen lit up in a flash of white, then a gunshot was heard. John’s head fell to the tabletop with a sickening thud, blood pouring out of the exit wound left by the 9mm. Blood and brains sprayed onto Azrael and the walls and the windows behind him. Frozen in place, Gabriel stared at the scene wide-eyed. Claire, too, stood stiff and unmoving. Behind her, the cell phone autoplayed the next selection.

“That’s great, it starts with an earthquake…” Michael Stipe began.

The always-present vibrations within her trembled dangerously with John’s death. It felt to Claire like a tremor rippled throughout the entirety of the universe. Reality itself was on the precipice, the dark abyss below it deeper and blacker than the chasm which separated Claire from her destiny in the dream. She looked past the danger and leveled the barrel at her final other.

“This is really happening?” Other Claire asked, the truth of what she was told by the angel and the demon now written all over her face in fear.

Claire had a moment of pause, feeling sorry the woman. It was all the time Azrael needed. Before she could pull the trigger and finally end her journey, John’s lifeless body was rammed into her, pushing her back against the counter and knocking the Hellcat from her hand.

“You bitch!” screamed Azrael, his eyes not just flashing red, but shining red in unbounded rage. “Whyyyy… AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Gabriel anticipated Azrael’s rage and stepped in between the demon and Claire’s other. “Claire!” The angel’s eyes shone blue, bracing for the impact he knew was coming.

Claire fumbled for her dagger as she tried to regain her balance. The dead weight of John’s corpse was like a vice, and it took all of her strength to get it out of her way. Meanwhile, Azrael jumped forward to go after Claire’s other. His purpose had been taken from him, and she was going to pay the price. But Gabriel stood in the way of his new target, he would be the first to pay.

Gabriel grabbed the demon by the scruff of his shirt and stopped him in his tracks. It was only for a moment. He had never witnessed a demon losing his shit, and he no idea what Azrael was capable of. Unable to move forward, Azrael grabbed the angel by the head and twisted and pulled. Gabriel’s body fell away from his head, the blue light in his eyes fading quickly. Another tremor sped through reality.

The maelstrom in her dream returned with vengeance as she watched Azrael kill her guide. Thoughts of Anne crept in, and the rage ignited. Claire’s eyes glowed a dangerous purple as she pushed John’s body away like a pile of autumn leaves. She brandished the dagger and focused on her other’s heart. Azrael had the same idea. Other Claire could only watch in horror as the two of them charged at her with the same thought in mind, her life had to end. She closed her eyes and just accepted it, she had never been afraid to die.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it…”

Fate, karma, destiny, or God’s plan, sometimes things happen so perfectly that we can’t help but to think that that’s how things were supposed to be. The next moments for Claire would have her wondering about that for eternity. She remembered the first time that she saw Azrael, when she thought nothing more than a fellow militiaman of John’s when they invaded her apartment. She remembered seeing the demon put a hole in John’s chest, removing his heart. She saw, now, that he wanted to do the same thing.

Everything progressed in slow motion, as if she were on the outside looking in and controlling the speed of play frame by frame. Azrael had his hand poised over Other Claire’s chest, only an inch away. Claire had the dagger aimed at the same target, the tip of the blade only a hair’s breadth away from piercing demon flesh. Then the two, hand and dagger moved in tandem, the dagger only slightly faster. Dagger peirced flesh of hand, demon fingernails pierced flesh of chest. As the hand gained on the human heart target, the dagger drove deeper through the hand. Nails and blade penetrated the target at the same moment, both actions caused the heart to cease beating. Both actions caused the death of Claire’s final other. As prime and demon fell together, Azrael caught between a corpse and a countertop, Claire’s free hand was already at the woman’s mouth, pulling the final soul into her.

Azrael’s glowing red eyes darkened to their normal color, his expression one of complete disbelief. Claire spied the purple amulet around the demon’s neck, the light within it flashed and went dark. Then she realized what had happened. Recalling what Gabriel had explained to her, the Yahweh successor had to kill its others, and the Yehwah successor had to have its others killed by a demon, Azrael. Other Claire had been killed in both ways, at the same time. The tremors stopped, and it seemed the realities stood still. God hadn’t been a single entity since the birth of the universe, now the divided powers of that singular entity resided in a singular human being.

What now? Claire thought to herself. She didn’t even realize the shear amount of power that was flowing through her. In the dream, she could see that the abyss was gone, only a scar remained in the soil where it had been, and the land was open to her in all directions. Across the scar, she could now make out a place that seemed to be made of both light and dark. The maelstrom had disappeared entirely, but the storm overhead had never been more violent. Back in the waking world, she stood up straight, but still shorter than the hunched over Azrael whose arm was still stuck through the corpse’s body. Claire looked at her final other and gave her a silent ‘thank you’. The body immediately turned to dust. Heart still in hand, Azrael stood to his full height, but the look of fear never left his face.

Claire glanced around the room. John Friedman’s body was on the floor, blood still trickling from the large exit wound through his forehead. Gabriel’s head, expression frozen in determination, lay on the back of his headless corpse. A pang of regret flowed through her. Yes, the angel had been pompous and arrogant, but she couldn’t have done this without him. Yet, if it weren’t for her actions, he’d still be alive. Balance… Claire then looked to Azrael, who now appeared to be nothing more than a broken servant.

“Get out,” Claire whispered to him. And he vanished without a word. She picked up the cell phone and turned it off, the kitchen going silent as the music ended abruptly. Pulling the pack off of her back, she sat down and ruffled through it. The book was found at the bottom, she grabbed it and dropped the pack to the floor. She closed her eyes and opened Sweet Emotion to a random page. A woman named Caitlin MacGregor had been published in the book on page seventy-nine, her poem was titled Screaming Flowers.

Screaming flowers

An eyesore in these days, but a style of the times

In the wallpapered kitchen, with ugly yellow trim

A vision of childhood, with love, light and laughter

When her view of the world, was a little less grim

Claire thought of Julie, and all of the iterations of her that she had met. She thought of her children, the lives that she had lived, and the innate happiness she always seemed to carry with her. She thought of how Julie had made her feel ‘at home’ in that first world, and the walk that they had taken to get breakfast at the diner.

Screaming flowers

On the boulevard dry, in the hot summer sun

As they wither near death, so helpless, ignored

Begging Mother Nature for drops of sky nectar

To refresh and recharge, their lifeblood restored

Claire thought of Pastor Martin Sullivan, always there when she needed to hear the things necessary to drive her forward to this end, the journey finally over, but the future still unknown. Every version of him that she had met must have known that there was something special going on. Marty was a wonderful soul, and she vowed to do right by him.

Screaming flowers

In the hands of the bridesmaid, as she stands by her side

To witness the ceremony, she knows a mistake

But quiet she must be and fulfill her sworn duty

And stay by her side, when her heart surely breaks

Claire’s tears flowed freely as she thought of Anne. The woman who knew what was to befall her, yet faced it with courage and love. Anne was her ‘perfect’ self, everything that she had ever wanted to be. And in that final, terrible moment, when destiny had taken her life, there was no less love than there had ever been. Claire felt Anne’s soul within her and thanked her for her bravery and tenderness.

Screaming flowers

On the stand in the nursery, where her new baby cries

For his mother’s embrace, to soothe infantile needs

Depression controls her, and delays her response

She cries out in anguish. God help me, she pleads

Claire turned her memories to the twins, Gabriel and Nathaniel. They were special… they had always been special. Nobody, she knew now, ever doubted that the boys were meant for something great. But through it all, they never wavered in engendering trust and kindness to everybody in their lives. Anne’s memories of their growing up flashed before her. Claire missed them, and the hole in her spirit awaited them. They were her sons now.

Screaming flowers

On the dining room cabinet, a blood red expression

Yet another apology for harsh words and hands

Their scornful petals mockingly watching

As she faithfully follows her oppressor’s commands

Claire’s sobs now came unabated. She had loved Eric with every fiber of her being. And she had watched him die too many times for anybody to remain sane. Somehow, though, Claire had held onto her sanity. She felt the love that she had shared with him that night, Anne allowing her to love him again. She remembered the pain in his face as she had killed his wife. Would he ever forgive her if they saw each other again? Would he be able to love her as she accepted her new place in the universe? It was too much to ask of anybody, and she wouldn’t do that to him, no matter how much she loved him. Her tears were her love, and it was a waterfall.

Screaming flowers

In the church on the altar with urn full of ashes

Leaving nothing but memories and death so unkind

Ripped from the soil for a fragrant memorial

Their stems now as broken as the hearts left behind

When the flowers don’t make a sound

Can anyone hear them scream?

Claire’s journey now appeared to be over, but how much damage had she caused? Her thoughts now ran through the past four months. She thought about how all of it began. She thought of the lives lost and the lives changed. The world… the worlds would always know tragedy, sickness, and death. But all of the things that she had witnessed were too much. how could she possibly bear the burden alone? When the flowers don’t make a sound, can anyone hear them scream?

She was tired from the tears and the sobs. Claire closed the book and placed it on the table. Then she laid her head on her hands and closed her eyes. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves. She was no Linda Hamilton, but she knew who she was, she knew it now like she had never known it before.

In the dream, the area of light and dark beckoned to her. And she followed its call…

Follow Claire as her journey comes to an end in Chapter 20:

...The Destroyer of Worlds