The trees and mountains were hidden behind a heavy curtain of rain, driven at an angle by the wind. The precipitation was wall-like and isolating. Clare imagined her father somewhere on the other side, out of sight and out of reach. She hoped it wasn’t raining wherever he was. The vaporous cover gave her the sense of being truly alone. Cut off. Separated. It didn’t scare her. Quite the opposite. She enjoyed the seclusion. It made her think about her grandmother again.

“We come into the world alone. We leave alone. Sure, while we’re here, we get to know other people, some better than others. But if you’re not okay on your own, not self-sufficient and calm, happy, in fact, in your own company, you’ll forever be afraid, dreading the inevitable moment you are alone, and nervous about how you’ll cope. Remember that. Get used to being alone. Enjoy your solitude,” she’d said.

While her grandmother spoke, Clare had noticed Michelle rolling her eyes. Later, as Geoffrey drove the family home, her mother glanced in the review mirror and said, “Kids, don’t pay too much attention to your grandmother’s morbid take on life today. She was probably just a little lonely and low. Perhaps feeling sad, as she does sometimes, about grandpa dying at so young an age.”

“Hmm. Not necessarily,” said Geoffrey. “She’s always believed that about being alone. I don’t think she was low at all. Just her normal matter-of-fact self.”

Michelle looked at him. “Really? Oh. Okay. She’s your mother. Seemed to me she was a little morose.”

“No,” said Geoffrey, putting an end to the conversation.

Clare hadn’t properly understood Gran’s thinking at the time. Nor had she thought much about it. But recently she had, and it made sense. Clare had grown accustomed to being alone. Mostly, she liked it. It was easier. She was in control of things and didn’t have to worry about who was watching and what they thought. She could pretend she was the same as she’d always been. Or at least, that she was getting there.

She swiped her fingers across the window pane, clearing the condensation for a better view. The path to the cabin was flooded and several gullies of water bounced down towards the stream. It was nearly midday and had clearly been raining for some time. She’d slept for more than four hours, which explained why she felt so much better. The combination of sleep and analgesics was the only thing that relieved her migraines. She knew, having suffered them a few times a year since puberty.