"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Violent-Medic
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Clarice tilted her head and squinted at Ty. “I mean… why wouldn’t I want to see her? Yeah, we weren’t sisters yet, but… well, you know. She’s still family, even if it wasn’t official yet. I don’t really know what I’m gonna do when I find her, can’t say I’m really happy about… well. But it’s something.”

Wait. Did Ty even know Clarice had a step-sister? Had she told him? It was pretty recent… fuck, she couldn’t remember.

“Oh. Uh. My dad was getting remarried?” Clarice said slowly, idly scratching at the edge of her bandages.

...No, that was a conversation for off-island. A conversation that… probably wasn’t going to be possible in ideal conditions, then. Was her dad watching now? Was Debbie? Were they upset with her for not prioritising Scout, instead running off to set fires that weren’t. Doing. Anything?

Clarice blinked a few times. Panic was starting to boil somewhere under the layer of apathy that had developed. But it wasn’t quite reaching the surface. Not yet. Maybe her words a little more stilted, her jaw a little tighter.

“Is… there… anyone either of you were looking for?”
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