Susan and Bebette glanced over at Lance and Cindy as they came in from outside.
Bebette spoke up first. “Claire’s already moved out.”
Latham’s face fell. “What’s that supposed to mean? The second she finds out she’s not our real daughter, she just can’t wait to leave?”
“Dad, just let her go,” Lance jumped in. “She took Cindy’s place for all those years. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for her to stay?”
“Let her leave then,” he added with a shrug. “If she didn’t go, how would Cindy come home?”
“Imagine walking in and seeing the person who’s been living your life this whole time. How uncomfortable would that be?”
Latham couldn’t really argue with that, though he still looked annoyed. They had raised Claire for so many years. Was she really that heartless?
Susan stood quietly nearby, looking like she wanted to say something but kept her mouth shut. Everyone knew it wasn’t Claire who decided to leave. Lance had made her go. Bebette shook her head slightly at Susan, warning her not to stir things up now.
“She might act tough, but once she has to get by on her own, she’ll realize how good she had it here,” Bebette said.
“Cindy told me she was cooking for herself when she was barely tall enough to see over the stove,” someone chimed in.
“Claire was so pampered. How’s she supposed to survive outside?”
Latham started to come around. Maybe it was better this way. Let her struggle a little so she’d finally appreciate her parents.
“Alright then. If she doesn’t come back on her own, none of you are to go looking for her.”
Lance was quick to agree. “It’s winter break now, but the new semester’s about to start. She’ll have to come back to the city for school. Let’s see how long she lasts before she begs to come home.”
He was pretty sure she wouldn’t last long. There was no way she could make it back by herself.
Claire, meanwhile, slept until noon. The rain had stopped hours ago, and the sky outside was the clearest blue.
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