The house was in ruins, the falling rocks bringing it down along with the force of Carrie’s own mind. Her head lowered, staring at her hands. They had blood on them, Mama’s blood. It was a truth she didn’t want to face. Mama was buried beneath the rubble of the house, dead because of Carrie.
Carrie had forced herself to move, forced herself to get up, buy some clothes and leave the house behind. Now, she sat in a diner, a pathetic plate of half-eaten breakfast and a lukewarm cup of coffee. The first thing she brought was a hoodie, and ever since she did she kept the hood up. She was still too close to Chamberlain, someone could see her and know who she was.
It had been about an hour since she walked into the diner, but she was still sitting there, trying to put together what her next move was. It wasn’t going to be easy. People assumed she was dead, whatever money her and Mama had was untouchable. So, money was an as much of an issue as where she was going to go from here.