Divergent Limit

Hi. :) You are reading chapter 5 of my novel Divergent Limit. If you're new here, I'd recommend that you click on the series link at the top (on mobile) or to your right (on desktop) and start with the prologue (chapter 0). This series isn't a collection of loosely connected stories that can all be read in isolation, but one long narrative where each chapter keeps building on the previous one.

If you want to know whether the story is for you, I'd recommend that you read "Element 00 - Prologue", "Element 01 - A Hint Of Summer", and "Element 02 - I Hate Kurt Gödel". If you enjoy these three chapters, chances are you might enjoy the rest as well. And if you aren't interested at that point, I doubt that later chapters will change your mind.

Should you make it back here, say hello in the comments and let me know what you think. So far, a few people have started following me as I keep posting new chapters, but rarely anybody rates or comments on the story. Your thoughts are very welcome! ;)

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Element 5 -- The Council Of Claire

Still November 3rd, Monday

The almond smell lingered in the apartment as Claire attempted to pick up the bottle and wipe away the spilled shampoo. She had insisted on cleaning up her mess on her own no matter how much Jason offered to do it for her. She was sure he was checking in on her while she did her best to appear calm, staring down a shampoo bottle she knew was objectively harmless. Her traumatized nervous system, however, cared little for what her mind knew.

This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She had lived alone for three years now, perfectly capable of looking after herself. But suddenly she struggled to deal with spilled shampoo?

She had beaten Mark that day. He had held her captive, hurt her, humiliated her, and raped her. But at the end of it all, he hadn't managed to break her and ended up broken himself instead. After she had confronted him with the flimsy excuses he so desperately needed to believe to justify his actions, the mask had slipped, revealing the pathetic, lonely man underneath. She would not let some liquid almond puddle turn this into a loss for her after all.

A distraction. She needed a distraction that allowed her to clean this up like she normally would. She was overthinking this. That was the problem. She took an additional paper towel, one more than necessary, and then talked to Jason, who was still sitting in the kitchen.

"How is Nora doing? I expected her to come by over the weekend."

The first few days she had stayed at Jason's place, Nora hadn't been at the forefront of her mind. But given how jealous Nora was of her, Claire had become more and more confused the longer she didn't hear anything from her. Somehow, she found it hard to believe that Nora was just cool with her staying for a week at her boyfriend's place all of a sudden.

"Oh, uhh... She's busy with her midterms. I don't know why, but English majors like her have most of their midterms later than us."

It was true that not all students had their midterms the same week. But Claire wasn't fully convinced.

"Sure, but I haven't heard her call even once since I've been here, or you her for that matter. Is everything okay?"

Claire stepped back into the kitchen and threw the soaked paper towels and the shampoo bottle into the trash. Jason scratched his head.

"Yeah, actually, I just talked to her while I was out grocery shopping. She's a little nervous before the exams, but her friend Lisa told me she always is. And then she ends up acing them anyway."

Claire didn't know what to make of this. Three weeks ago, Jason had called her all excited and told her he had finally lost his virginity with Nora, his first girlfriend. Claire didn't have any experience of her own to draw upon. But wasn't it weird that, in a relationship this young, they didn't see each other for a week and barely even called because of midterms?

"Well, let her know she can come by, okay? I don't want her... to get the wrong impression."

Jason took off his shoes as he answered.

"Mhm, yeah. I'll tell her next time we talk."

The doorbell rang. Jason looked irritated.

"Is that Emily already? Didn't expect her for at least half an hour."

"Oh, I probably should have told you. Emily is always early."

Jason shrugged once, got up from his chair, and headed for the intercom.

As he disappeared from sight, Claire became nervous. Was she really ready to tell Emily what happened? Probably not. On the other hand, what did that even mean? Maybe there was no being ready for this. If that were the case, she might end up waiting forever for a feeling to arrive that simply didn't exist.

"Hi Jason! Long time no see!... God, you look tired. Are you okay?"

She could hear Emily's familiar voice occupy the apartment before she had even closed the door behind her. The same energy, the same unfiltered, immediate concern. Claire knew all too well that Emily must have been worried sick when she hadn't answered her messages for two days. Her demeanor didn't show it, though. Or more precisely: her demeanor was designed not to show her worry.

Jason's voice, by comparison, was so quiet that Claire couldn't make out his response. She walked from the kitchen into the hallway, ready to meet Emily halfway. They stepped into the living room at exactly the same time, both coming to a halt for a second as they saw each other. Emily's eyes lit up. She briefly folded her hands before her face and then stormed toward Claire.

"Oh my god! You look so cute in that giant sweater!"

Before Claire could even attempt an answer, Emily hugged her. A little tighter than usual. Jason could be heard mumbling in the background.

"It's a perfectly normal sweater. She's just tiny..."

Claire was tearing up as she hugged Emily back.

"I missed you too."

Emily let go of her, taking a step back. Meanwhile, Jason came to stand beside them.

"So... Is this the big secret then?"

Emily asked, pointing back and forth between Claire and Jason.

"What do you mean...?"

Claire was confused.

"Well, you're at Jason's place, wearing his clothes. He's clearly not getting enough sleep, if you catch my drift. Our boy here can't get enough of this."

Emily's hand traced wild circles around Claire's face. Her misunderstanding began to dawn on Claire, making her blush. Jason hid his face in his hands.

"It's not what you..."

"Oh no, what did I do?! I feel horrible now! Couldn't you have given me a heads-up?! I never would have encouraged Eugene if I had known. Poor Eugene. And here I thought you had hit it off with him..."

Claire didn't really know what to say. Emily looked so happy, so relieved. Somehow, the alternate reality of a secret boyfriend that Emily believed to have discovered seemed much more appealing than the truth.

Fortunately, Jason decided to intervene.

"Emily, it's not what you think. We're not a couple. That's not why Claire is staying with me. Maybe we should all sit down first?"

Emily's energy instantly evaporated the moment Jason's words registered in her brain. She sat down on the couch first.

"I know. I guess you wouldn't have called in sick for a week if a guy was the only thing that happened, huh?"

Claire shook her head as she sank into the comfortable armchair that had become her reading spot over the last week.

"I wish it was as simple as that."

Jason briefly disappeared into the kitchen, fetching a glass for everyone. Then he sat down too. Emily looked at both of them, one after the other, but neither of them said anything.

"So...?"

Ultimately, Emily's eyes settled on Jason as Claire was shrinking further and further away, unable to hold her gaze.

"I think Claire needs to tell you this herself. That isn't something I can do for her."

Her heart was beating fast. She didn't know what to do with her hands. She placed them in her lap, then rubbed her thighs, and finally ended up with her arms folded across her chest, her fingers digging into her elbows.

"Well, let me say first. I didn't mean to ignore your text. I... I couldn't get to my phone that Sunday. When I finally got it back, I didn't know how to explain. I'm sorry..."

Emily's eyes briefly darted to Jason, who only shook his head. Then she looked back at Claire.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're okay. Why couldn't you get your pho-?"

"I'm not okay!"

Claire was grinding her teeth. Tears started to flow. She saw Emily lean back, startled and surprised by the unfamiliar anger. Just like Jason earlier.

"I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. I... I meant to say, I'm glad that..."

Emily was visibly struggling to find a way to finish the sentence.

"... I got to see you like this today."

Claire wiped her tears away. Jason handed her a tissue. She took a deep breath.

"I couldn't get to my phone... because I never made it home after I left the Infinite Pint. On my way home, I... was kidnapped by a man."

Emily's eyes went wide. Claire could see her friend resist the urge to ask the million questions running through her mind: "What man?", "What did he do?", "Are you hurt?", "How did you escape?", "Is he still out there?", "Have you been to the police?", "Do you need anything?", "Is there anything I can do?"

Claire hugged her knees close to her chest as she continued, her face hidden behind her legs. She didn't want to see Emily's reaction to her next words.

"He told me his name was Mark. I have no idea if that's his real name. He..."

She was shaking now.

"He kept me in the basement of a house he had rented. He let me go after 24 hours because he thinks he's not that bad of a person if... he doesn't kill or seriously injure his victims. And he kidnapped me because..."

She had to swallow once.

"...he's a serial ra... rapist..."

Unbearable silence filled the room. Nobody was moving, even the everyday white noise of clothes rubbing against the fabric of the couch was absent. All Claire could hear was her own rapid but quiet breath. Her eyes were closed. A single gulp cut through the calm. She couldn't tell from whom it came.

Somebody stood up from the couch. Soft, cautious steps closed the distance. The person approaching slowly sat down on the wide, comfy armrest to Claire's left, making her feel the slight shift in the center of gravity of her armchair. The feminine smell entering her nose gave away that it wasn't Jason sitting next to her.

Emily gradually slid down the armrest, gently bumping into Claire on the seat that wasn't meant to hold two people. The familiar, yet different feeling of tender arms cradling her followed.

Compared to Jason, Emily's arms were delicate, her scent sweet, her fingers slender, and her chest soft against Claire's face. Emily's soothing embrace was more akin to a mother's touch. A barely noticeable tremble of suppressed nervousness lingered in her voice while she whispered the first words with as much reassurance as she could muster.

"You're so brave."

Claire let go of her knees, hugged Emily back, and leaned into the protective embrace. She sobbed in Emily's arms, letting her friend shield her from the world.

"I don't feel brave..."

Emily nodded as she kept stroking her hair.

"Mhm, I know. That's why I'm telling you."

What followed was a different kind of silence. Sobs growing quiet, tears drying, repetitive touch that made no sound. The mute, awkward helplessness yielded to a calm peace.

Claire was about to fall asleep when she heard Emily's gentle voice.

"Want me to sit with you as we talk? Or should I go back to Jason on the couch?"

Claire sniffed once.

"Uhh... I think you can go back. It's getting a little cramped here in my reading spot."

Emily sat back down next to Jason. She gave him a quick hug and whispered something into his ear that made his eyes grow wide for a moment before a tired smile spread across his face. Emily took a deep breath.

"So, I hope I'm not insensitive here, but can you get me up to speed about what happened after... Claire made it out?"

Jason looked at Claire. She nodded, confirming that he could reveal what had happened since.

"Well, Claire got home shortly after midnight on Monday. She had trouble falling asleep on her own despite being sleep-deprived. So, she sent me a text around 3 AM, asking me to come over."

Nervously, he took a sip of his water. Emily was hanging on his every word with an intensity that seemed to make him a little uncomfortable.

"Claire then fell asleep. I stayed for a day at her place, and then we moved here, because, well, apparently this Mark...person... knows where she lives."

He scratched his head.

"And that's pretty much it. Since then Claire has been... recovering, and I... I've been here too."

Once more, he sought her confirmation. Claire, again, nodded, even though she disagreed with how he was downplaying his role.

Emily looked back and forth between them until her eyes ultimately landed on Jason again.

"So, just to be clear. I'm not saying you should have done anything different. But that means no police, no doctor's visit, and nobody else you confided in yet but me?"

Jason briefly hesitated.

"Uhh, no."

Emily turned to Claire.

"Can I ask... why?"

Claire sighed.

"I don't see the point. What good would any of that do?"

Emily was visibly uncomfortable now. Her face twitched as if she were feeling the weight of her words on her tongue.

"I mean... you said he's a serial rapist, right? That means he'll do it again, doesn't it?"

Claire got out of the armchair and started to pace up and down the small living room.

"Okay, I get what you're saying. But I thought this through, more than once. Let's... let's go through this rationally, shall we?"

Emily seemed intimidated by the sudden intensity.

"So, I looked it up: In general, only 9% of all reported sexual assaults lead to a conviction. So the chances are already bad even if you know who did it. In my case, there are no witnesses, and I have no idea who to press charges against. I know that he's a roughly 30-year-old average white guy, and if I'm lucky he told me his real first name. But 'Mark' is so generic that this barely narrows it down even if that's his real name. I don't know where he lives or what his job is."

She was far from finished, her steps accelerating as she kept listing information.

"I know that there were twelve victims before me. At least that's what he told me and he doesn't like to lie. Apparently, none of these cases has ever gotten him into trouble. He rented a house for his plan and I doubt that he lives anywhere nearby. Even if they did find his DNA somewhere in that basement, what good would that do if it isn't already part of a database?"

Neither Emily nor Jason said anything.

"I can go to the police and expose myself to all the questions they might have. If I'm lucky, somebody considerate would handle my case. But either way, I'd probably have to go through every word I exchanged with Mark, relive it all again. And trust me, I remember it all."

She suddenly stood still and stared at the floor.

"I could tell them a lot. How he asked me whether I liked Eugene after he read his text. How he arranged the sandwiches he made for us in a little, meticulously ordered, symmetrical pyramid on his plate. How he asked me whether I had any allergies because he didn't want to trigger a reaction with the food he made for me. Or what about him mentioning the fact that I was only the third of thirteen women to spit at him? How he expected that to happen more often before he began his 'career' as a serial rapist? I can keep going if you want to. But will any of that get him caught?"

Claire looked at them both. Their faces revealed that they were beginning to get an idea of what spending 24 hours with Mark truly meant.

"Here's the truth: I can go to the police, tell a bunch of strangers what happened, and relive it all again in the vague hope that the... what? 1% chance he might get caught actually materializes? To me, even that estimate feels like I'm highballing it."

Emily forced herself to look at Claire again.

"Okay. I'll support you whatever you choose, Claire. I only brought it up because I thought you might want to try it even if the chance is low. To get that 'what if?' out of your head. But you don't owe anybody anything."

Claire sat back down again.

"Thank you."

The room grew silent again. Nobody said anything. Claire felt exhausted and she was sure the others were aware of that. Apparently, neither of them had any idea how to pivot back to a more normal topic after discussing an issue of such magnitude. Then Jason opened his mouth.

"So, I..."

His brief hesitation made both Claire and Emily stare at him as if he was about to reveal a life-altering secret of his own.

"I bought ice cream..."

Claire's eyes went wide with surprise. Jason sat there with slumped shoulders, staring at the floor as if his suggestion carried with it the weight of the world. Her gaze wandered to Emily, who desperately tried to hide the grin stretching across her face behind her hand while suppressed laughter shook her body. That was enough to send Claire over the edge, turning a subdued chuckle first into a cackle and then into a full-on laugh. Claire falling back into her chair, holding her stomach, was the starting signal that granted the others permission to join her.

She wiped away the first tears of laughter she had cried in over a week. Jason got up, still giggling a little, and went to fetch the Karamel Sutra ice cream he had shown Claire earlier. He also brought three bowls and spoons from the kitchen, but somehow they ended up sitting huddled together on the couch, Jason trapped between the two girls, and all of them eating directly out of the pint as they watched an episode of Breaking Bad.

The ice cream had long vanished before the episode was over. Despite liking the show, it became harder and harder for Claire to focus on Walter's and Jesse's attempts to kill a fly. Her mind kept drifting back to Eugene's text. She still needed to give him an answer. Even if her response ended up being a no coming far too late, she owed him that.

Claire grabbed the remote and paused the episode. The screen froze on the exact moment of Walter hitting the giant stainless vessel in the laboratory mid-fall. Jason and Emily turned toward Claire in surprise.

"Sorry for pausing, but I need your advice on something."

Claire muttered as she reached for her phone and opened Eugene's text. She handed over her phone to Jason, who showed it to Emily as well.

"What do I do with this?"

Jason's expression became thoughtful immediately while Emily's eyes lit up in excitement. She was the first to speak.

"And so the council of Claire comes together to decide the fate of Eugene!"

Claire rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. Jason snorted, the phone shaking slightly in his hand. He continued.

"Well, usually I'd say your two options are something like 'I'd like that. Friday? :)' or 'Thanks, you're really nice, but not my type. Sorry.' What do you want?"

Claire sighed.

"Yeah, I got that far myself. I gave him my number and told him to text me. So, obviously I didn't intend to suddenly say no. That would just be cruel. Eugene, he's... adorable..."

The memory of twirling Eugene's hair around her finger came back to her.

"Aww, you're blushing!"

No-filter Emily was back. Claire decided to ignore her comment, then cleared her throat.

"My point is, it's been more than a week now. From his perspective, I'm suddenly ghosting him. I can't just reply without acknowledging that nine days have passed, can I? But what could I possibly say that isn't either completely inadequate or just oversharing? I like him, but aside from a few questions in my section, we talked exactly once. I can't tell him what really happened."