Claire's POV
A Few Months Ago
Claire opened her eyes, panicking, drawing breaths in frantically. She tried to get up but she was lightheaded.
She realised that someone held an oxygen mask to her face.
"You did well." Pierre said calmly. "You were given a supply of oxygen within a minute of the full paralysis. You would feel better soon and you should be completely fine within a few hours. You will have a few bruises from the hit. But no proper damage was done. Just as we discussed.
"You didn't tell me that I won't be able to breathe." Claire grumbled, panting, yearning for more air.
"It's a full-body paralysis. What did you expect? I did mention that it might be uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable, my ass."
Pierre chuckled at Claire's open disapproval.
"Here are all the documents you might need as well as cash." Pierre held onto an envelope. They were still in the van, or rather ambulance. It was parked somewhere, she wasn't sure exactly where.
Claire took another deep breath, her lungs hurting from the amount of oxygen. It was stinging as if the air was made of needles, but then it weighed as much as pebbles.
"A few more minutes and you should be fine." Pierre sat down opposite her. Claire was still laying down on something resembling a stretcher.
Claire sat up with a slight wobble.
"You'll be just fine." Pierre smiled as he passed Claire an envelope. "Miss Cooper."
"You could've at least been creative with the name." Claire said in disapproval, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek.
"You know, you've always astonished me." Pierre admitted. "Even in the direst moments, you retained your snarkiness."
"Will I hear from you again?"
"I can get in touch in about a month or two to check on you and report on your family and friends. Although seeing how popular your husband is, you may not need my reports on him. I'm sure you'll be able to track him by just reading the news." Pierre briefly stopped in thought. "Ex-husband, I suppose. I never fully worked this out. You're no longer Claire Thompson. Legally, Claire Thompson is dead. I guess that makes your marriage void."
"Thanks for the reminder." Claire grumbled.
"I don't think I have to lecture you about do's and don't's, do I? I suspect that you already have a plan."
"I have an idea. And don't worry. I will try to avoid scandals for now."
"I'm glad to hear. If there's trouble, call me. Your phone has me saved as Martin."
"Thanks."
He offered her hand as she was getting out of the pretend ambulance, or maybe that part was real?
She stood on the small airfield with no one beside them around.
Pierre led her to the hangar where a woman waited for them.
"Patricia, this is Elise." Pierre introduced her as if her old name was gone already.
"Patricia will help you conceal yourself a bit better."
"How?"
"A new hairstyle, clothes, whatever will be deemed sufficient."
"I see." Claire looked down at her clothes. The absence of the ring on her finger felt awkward. She purposely left it behind. She needed to leave everything behind.
"Good afternoon, Elise." Patricia smiled in a friendly manner. She had a space at the back of the hangar prepared with her styling equipment. She cut Claire's long hair into a bob and dyed it the colour of dark oak. Claire looked at herself in a mirror, not recognising the person looking back.
She received coloured contact lenses that she must wear instead of glasses.
Her eyes were now nearly black.
Her clothes were taken away and burnt. She was instead given a new set of clothes.
Bright coloured trousers, a plain white vest top, and a red coat.
She looked confused at Patricia but she guessed that the style opposing her was probably the best choice.
And no one would have seen her wearing hot pink coloured trousers before.
When she was ready sometime later, Pierre reappeared.
"You look like a completely new person." He smiled.
He led her to the private jet. Of course, she couldn't go through customs and cross the border without drawing any attention.
Claire climbed up the stairs of the jet quietly, holding the envelope in her hand. Pierre waved her goodbye.
She was all on her own.
Once in the seat, she opened it to find fake IDs, medical records, employment history, and a new phone. All fake, all made up. Her entire life just vanished as if it never existed.
She was too numb to cry. She hated herself too much to pity herself.
Claire walked out of the plane to be hit by cold air.
She was in a completely unknown place, with no one to help her.
She never quite felt as lonely as that day.
She had some cash which could last her a month. She didn't want more money as she wanted to give her family and friends as much as she could.
A month's worth of money if she was careful and didn't overspend.
She looked around warily as the chill air turned her cheeks red.
Another isolated airfield and nowhere to go.
Lights glowed in the distance where the city was.
Claire slowly left the airfield and took the bus towards the city. She felt lost.
She found a cheap-ish hotel and she checked in.
It was a real effort to remember that she was Elise Cooper now.
Once in the small hotel room with a single bed, she turned the tv on in the hope to shut her thoughts out.
She didn't expect the news to travel across the ocean but apparently, it did. The scene of her pretend death was shown in the news. Gabriel in his despair and agony was shown beside her twisted body. She still hurt but not anything near the pain of her heartbreak.
She lay on the bed and cried. She cried for so long that she wasn't even sure how many days have passed before her tears started drying out.
She was strong. Stronger than most. After days of self-pity and overwhelming depression, she got herself dressed in her new apparel and she left the hotel.
It was luck, or maybe a complete misfortune, that she found an advertisement for a waitressing job near the hotel.
It wasn't that hard to get it. She was interviewed by the owner almost immediately, and because of her soothing nature, she was given the job on the spot.
Within days at the new work, one of her colleagues let her know of the small apartment to let. It was as if pieces slowly started falling into places.
She was picking herself up from rock bottom. Again.
It was hard. Harder since she fell from the very top.
The owners of the coffee shop were a slightly older couple who seemed to treat their workers as if they were family. Claire couldn't complain much. Between nice owners, she earned enough to pay for her tiny apartment.
Days have passed and not much has been shown in the news. Pierre was quiet too. Claire grew worried about what happened to Gabriel. Her nights became sleepless.