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Violent-Medic
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“Jasmine? I don’t think so...”

Had there been a Jasmine in there? There’d been girls that Clarice didn’t know that well… but no Jasmine. Had there? It was starting to feel like there were just chunks of her memory gone, or at least lost in the haze that was the last week.

“Right… right, I’m… sorry about Bee. But… but I’m glad you did that.” There was a little, throwaway thought—‘glad you didn’t leave her to rot in the sun like we did with Harold’—but it didn’t come out. It was gone before she could think about saying it. “There is a lot of… a lot of people gone by now, huh?”

Ty helping her, though… On one hand, having Ty with her—and this Keith guy, too, she supposed—didn’t seem bad, exactly. The couple of days without company was already maddening.

On the other hand, she was in no shape to be protecting anyone. It would end up with someone throwing themselves at a killer and being killed, like Jennifer had. Or Clarice putting people in danger, like she had with the fire. And if the terrorists saw her partnering up with another group and not betraying them, especially since the fire had ‘failed’ and Clarice lacked the kill to coast through the game, what if they realised she wasn’t playing? What if they realised the real purpose of the fire? What if they took it out not just on her, but on anyone near her at the time?

And Scout was a killer. Clarice didn’t want to admit it, but she was. What if Ty broke her arm, too? She… hadn’t killed Bee, had she? No… wrong day. Scout had only cropped up the day after. Clarice tried to remember who had, and found she couldn’t come up with a name or even the circumstances it had happened under.

“Uh… I’m good. I mean… searching for someone in a group doesn’t do much good anyway. Just, y’know… if you see her, tell her I’m looking for her?”
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