Vanessa
My father keeps calling me, the phone screen lights up once again on the table.
Dad… Again and again and again.
I don't even bother to check how long he's been calling; I lost count after the tenth call.
Maybe the fifteenth, maybe the twentieth. I don't know, I don't care.
I've been sitting in front of the television for almost an hour, the news still showing snippets of Clara's interview.
Her voice, her image, her smile… Her damn smile.
I clench my teeth; I can still hear her answering that question.
I can still hear the confidence in her tone, the self-assurance, the intelligence… The way she took control of the situation.
As if nothing had happened, as if the accident hadn't occurred… As if I hadn't done everything I did.
"How?"
I whisper.
My voice barely comes out.
