FISHER HOME
It feels to
Paula as if all the air
has suddenly been sucked out of the room. Utensils are frozen in mid-air,
open mouths have been left hanging and wordless, and the temperature feels
as though it's dropped a good twenty degrees.
"What?" Paula asks, looking at
Sarah.
The eerie calm of her daughter's voice is still ringing in her ears.
"Nothing," Sarah says, offering a
half-shrug. "I just said that maybe
Molly's
so quiet 'cause she's too busy
obsessing over Brent."
And she goes right back to work on her dinner.
Paula glances around at the rest
of the family, as if they hold some sort of explanation, but her gaze passes
right over Molly. It returns to Sarah as she asks, "What are you talking
about?"
Sarah tips her head down the table,
towards her sister. "Ask Molly."
Now Paula does look at her other
daughter, but Molly's eyes escape before Paula's can grip onto them. Paula
waits and in a few seconds, Molly does look up at her. And this time, Paula
catches her with a questioning look.
Everything is static for a moment
-- and then Molly scrambles out of her chair and out of the dining room.
Everyone else is left looking around,
helpless and confused. They search one another, as if an explanation is
to be found among them. But Sarah just follows Molly's path with her eyes,
staring coldly after her sister.
Suddenly
Claire
pushes herself back
from the table and begins to rise. "I'll go check on her," she says quickly,
and she is gone.
She heads for the living room and
takes a moment to figure out her path. Then she moves straight towards
the entry.
She finds Molly sitting in a chair,
staring intently at the front door. Her hands are folded together in her
lap and the color seems to have rushed away from her face.
"Molly," Claire says softly. "Are
you all right?"
Molly nods hurriedly, still not looking
at Claire. "I'm fine, yeah."
"Are you sure?"
There is a hesitation before Molly
says, "Yeah." When Claire doesn't respond, she adds, "Go back in there."
Claire sighs, torn over how to deal
with this. But she forces herself to choose a course of action and she
kneels beside Molly.
"Look," she says, "I don't know what
was going on back there with Sarah or why you ran out ... but from what
I can see, it must be something pretty heavy." She waits for some sign
of confirmation, but there is none.
"Molly, come on ... Why don't you
tell me what's going on?"
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