Sis

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"Who's that?" Clara asked in Russian, waving her hand toward Troy. He had already lowered his rifle and was looking at us in silence.

"It's a friend. Don't worry."

"Why the hell does your friend want to shoot me then!"

"Clara, no one wanted to shoot you! He didn't even shoot, unlike you! Why are you here? Why did you leave?"

"I needed to see if Michael was here. And to be alone."

"Great! And you left me even though you knew it could be dangerous!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not your child to listen to you forever," my sister raised her voice.

Before I could respond, Troy intervened:

"I don't understand anything about your dialog, but I'm Troy. And you are Clara?" He held out his palm to her as a greeting. She nodded and shook his hand without enthusiasm.

"So, did you find Michael?"

"No, as you can see. But you did find someone. Why don't you tell me where he came from?" Clara was still speaking in her native tongue. Troy realized he didn't belong here and left the house.

"I found it when you left me, Clara. I also found a ranch that belongs to his family. It is located just outside of San Diego. All our men are already there. You must come back with me!"

"No, I have to find Michael."

"It's dangerous to stay in the city, and it doesn't look like Michael could be here!"

Clara thought for a moment. After a few moments of silence, she said:

"All right, I must see my parents. But I won't give up the search. And by the way, what's your deal with him?" She pointed her head in Troy's direction. 

"Even if there is something between us, so what?"

"Yes, my dear, to find a replacement for Aron so quickly..."

"Clara, I wasn't looking for anyone to replace him, cut the crap."

She just waved her hand and walked outside. I followed her.

A light wind rippled the grass. The sun bathed the asphalt in its rays. I got behind the wheel. Troy reached for the passenger seat door, but Clara overtook him, opened it, climbed in, and finally said in English:

"You're in the back, friend," she emphasized the last word somehow.

Troy raised an eyebrow and wanted to say something back, but then just shook his head and jumped into the back seat. I turned back to him, but he maintained an indifferent look.

On the way out, my sister told me that she had gone around to all the places she and Michael had been in LA, but couldn't find him anywhere. Then she told me about seeing Chris and Andy's company. I didn't bother to tell her about what I did to one of the men. In fact, I hadn't thought about them at all until she reminded me. We were driving down a deserted highway. Everything around us was dry and lifeless. Los Angeles was behind us. With each new kilometer behind me, I was getting calmer and calmer.

"Should I drive?" Troy asked me after a little over an hour of driving, slightly interrupting our conversation with Clara. She beat me to it:

"We're actually talking, haven't you noticed?".

I was already in complete shock at her behavior.

"Clara, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this with a man you don't even know?"

"Why do I have to be nice to him? I don't like him."

"Let him, but I remind you: he's the one who owns the place that's become our new home, okay?"

Dead love in my hands  (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)Where stories live. Discover now