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The apartment was quiet that evening in a very specific way, one Claire had only started to recognize after their parents died. It wasn’t ordinary silence. Ordinary silence meant everyone was asleep, the TV was off, or there simply weren’t any cars passing outside the window. This silence was heavier. It left empty spaces behind. Their parents’ empty bedroom. The empty chair at the table. Empty parts of the day when, for a few seconds, Claire forgot that she would never hear Mom’s voice from the kitchen again or their father’s footsteps on the stairs.
It had been a few months since they were left on their own. Chris was doing everything he could to make their life feel normal. He bought groceries, kept track of the bills, drove Claire to school, reminded her about homework, and tried to pretend that a twenty-year-old guy could somehow be both an older brother and the person responsible for an entire household without a problem.
Claire saw how hard he was trying. And that was exactly why it was starting to frustrate her more and more. She sat at the kitchen table, rolling a pen between her fingers. Chris stood by the counter, going through some papers he had received that day. Neither of them had spoken for several minutes.
Finally, Claire sighed.
“Chris?”
“Mhm?”
“I want to talk to you.”
Chris looked up from the papers.
“Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
He set the papers down.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
Claire stared at the pen for a moment.
“I want more freedom.”
Chris didn’t even flinch.
“No.”
Claire looked up.
“You don’t even know what I mean.”
“I know enough.”
“Chris.”
“Claire.”
“I’m fourteen.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not a little kid.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you act like I am.”
Chris rested his hands on the counter and looked at her calmly.
“You’re fourteen. You have every right to want to go out with your friends, come home later, and have a life of your own. I understand that. I really do.”
Claire frowned.
“That sounds like a but.”
“Because there is a but.”
“I knew it.”
“Claire, we’ve been on our own for a few months.”
The words hung between them.
Chris immediately regretted saying them so directly. Claire lowered her gaze.
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
Chris pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.
“I don’t want to keep you locked in the house. I don’t want you to feel like you have to ask me for permission every time you take a step. But I need to know you’re okay.”
“You can always call me.”
“And what if you don’t answer?”
“Then call again.”
“And what if you still don’t answer?”
Claire shrugged.
“Maybe my phone will be on silent.”
“Exactly.”
“Chris, you can’t expect me to sit around with my phone in my hand all the time.”
“I don’t expect that.”
“Then what do you want?”
Chris was silent for a moment.
“I want to know that if something happens, we’ll have a way to communicate.”
Claire scrunched up her nose.
“So?”
“Codes.”
“Codes?”
“Simple words or phrases that will mean something only to us.”
Claire stared at him for a moment, then snorted.
“That sounds like something out of a spy movie.”
“Maybe.”
“Agent Redfield, the situation is critical.”
Chris smiled to himself.
“I was thinking of something a little less dramatic.”
“Shame.”
“I mean situations where you can’t tell me directly that you need help. Or someone is with you and you don’t want them to know you’re trying to contact me.”
Claire stopped smiling.
“Like what?”
“For example, you’re out with your friends and someone makes you feel unsafe. You don’t want to make a scene, but you want me to come get you.”
“I could just text come get me.”
“You could. But what if someone sees the message?”
Claire thought about it.
“Right.”
Chris picked up a piece of paper and a pen.
“Let’s keep it simple. No weird phrases we’ll never remember.”
“So no Operation Redfield?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Shame.”
“First code: I forgot my book.”
Claire tilted her head.
“What does that mean?”
“That you want me to call you.”
“Why a book?”
“Because it sounds normal.”
“Okay. I forgot my book means call me.”
Chris wrote it down.
“But if you just text I forgot my book, I’ll call once. If you text I forgot my book and I have a test tomorrow…”
Claire looked at him.
“That means?”
“Call me immediately.”
“Even if it’s late?”
“Especially if it’s late.”
Claire nodded.
“Okay.”
Chris added another line.
“Now we need something for when you want me to come get you, but you can’t say it directly.”
Claire thought for a moment.
“I bought too much milk.”
Chris looked at her.
“What?”
“It sounds normal.”
“And what does it mean?”
“That you have to come get me.”
“Why milk?”
“Because you always buy too much milk.”
Chris looked at her with mock offense.
“That’s not true.”
“There are three cartons in the fridge.”
“That’s called being prepared.”
“That’s called an obsession.”
Chris shook his head, but wrote the code down anyway.
“I bought too much milk means: I’m coming to get you. No questions over the phone.”
Claire nodded.
“I like that one.”
“And one more thing.”
“What?”
“If you just text milk, I’m coming too.”
Claire looked at him more seriously.
“No matter what time it is?”
“No matter what time it is.”
“What if you’re working?”
“I’ll leave.”
“What if you’re sleeping?”
“You wake me up.”
“What if you’re—”
“Claire.”
She smiled slightly.
“Okay.”
Chris leaned back in his chair.
“We also need something that means everything’s okay.”
“Pizza.”
“Pizza?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because if I text pizza?, you’ll know I’m asking if you’re home.”
Chris nodded.
“And pizza with cheese?”
“I’m safe.”
“And pizza with mushrooms?”
Claire started smiling.
“I hate mushrooms.”
“Exactly. That’s why it’ll work.”
“So pizza with mushrooms means something’s wrong?”
“No. That would be too complicated.”
“Then why are we putting it in?”
“So we have something that’s easy to remember.”
Claire looked at him, amused.
“You’re getting confused by your own system.”
“I know.”
For a moment, they both laughed. Then Chris grew serious again.
“We need one really important one.”
Claire immediately knew what he meant.
“Milk?”
“No. Something that means real danger.”
Claire stopped smiling. Chris leaned forward slightly over the table.
“If you ever text or say, Chris, I left my blue jacket, I won’t ask questions. I’ll know you need help immediately.”
Claire swallowed.
“Why a blue jacket?”
“Because you don’t have a blue jacket.”
“I do.”
“The old one?”
“Yeah.”
“That one’s navy.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Chris.”
“What?”
“Fine. Blue jacket. I’ll remember.”
“And one more thing. If you say it around someone who shouldn’t know what it means, I won’t react immediately. I don’t want them to realize something’s wrong. I’ll just try to get you out of there.”
Claire nodded.
“I understand.”
“And if you ever use that code, you won’t have to explain to me afterward why you used it.”
Claire looked at him carefully.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Even if it turns out I overreacted?”
“If you think you need help, then you needed help.”
Claire didn’t say anything for a moment. Chris looked back down at the paper.
“We have one more thing.”
“What?”
“A code for I need you to stay.”
Claire frowned.
“That’s kind of stupid.”
“Why?”
“Because I can just say it.”
Chris looked at her.
“I know.”
“So why?”
“Because sometimes it’s easier to say something stupid than something important.”
Claire fell silent. After a moment, she pointed at the pen.
“It’s going to rain tomorrow.”
Chris looked at the paper.
“What?”
“It’s going to rain tomorrow means stay with me.”
Chris didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then he wrote it down.
“Okay.”
“And you need your own codes too.”
“Me?”
“Yes. This has to work both ways.”
“Claire, I’m twenty.”
“So?”
“I’m supposed to look after you.”
“And who’s going to look after you?”
Chris opened his mouth, but couldn’t come up with an answer. Claire smiled triumphantly.
“Exactly.”
He sighed.
“Fine. One.”
“I need help?”
“No. Do you want coffee?”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
“If I ever ask you, Do you want coffee? when it’s really late or the situation feels strange, it means I want you to stay with me and not ask questions.”
Claire stared at him for several seconds.
“You really don’t know how to talk about your feelings.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Chris, you just invented a code for I need you here because you can’t say I need you here.”
Chris looked at her with a faint smile.
“And you just invented it’s going to rain tomorrow.”
“That’s different.”
“Of course it is.”
Claire reached for the paper.
“Give me that.”
Chris handed it to her. She read through everything from the beginning.
I forgot my book — call me.
I forgot my book and I have a test tomorrow — call me immediately.
I bought too much milk — come get me.
Milk — come get me no matter what time it is.
Blue jacket — the situation is serious.
It’s going to rain tomorrow — stay with me.
Do you want coffee? — stay with me.
Claire ran her finger over the last line.
“I like this one.”
“Which one?”
“Yours.”
Chris nodded.
“I like yours too.”
For a moment, they sat in silence. This time, though, it wasn’t heavy. Claire folded the paper in half.
“Can I go out with Emily tomorrow?”
Chris sighed.
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“With who?”
“Emily and Sarah.”
“What time will you be home?”
Claire was already opening her mouth to protest, but Chris raised a hand.
“I’m not saying no.”
She closed her mouth.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I just want to know where you are. And I want a message when you get there.”
“Okay.”
“And when you’re heading home.”
“Okay.”
“And—”
“Chris.”
“What?”
“I’m fourteen, not four.”
He smiled.
“I know.”
Claire stood up from the table and started toward the stairs. At the first step, however, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
“Hey, Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
She shrugged.
“For not just saying no.”
Chris looked at her for a moment without saying anything.
“You can always talk to me.”
Claire nodded.
“I know.”
She headed upstairs.
Chris stayed at the table. He looked down at the sheet of paper with their codes and turned it over between his fingers for a moment. It all seemed a little ridiculous.
And yet he knew exactly why they needed it. Because Claire’s world had just changed. So had his. He couldn’t promise that he would always be able to protect her. He couldn’t be there every minute of every day. He couldn’t lock the doors and pretend that would somehow guarantee nothing bad would ever happen.
But he could make sure she always had a way to reach him.
Chris folded the paper again and slipped it into his wallet. A moment later, Claire’s voice came from upstairs.
“Chris!”
“What?”
“It really might rain tomorrow!”