The sound grew louder as Clara dragged her feet through the long hallway of her parent’s house. It was a squawking sort of sound, one distinct to a certain species of people: socialites. Emanating from the backyard, their high-pitched voices rang in her ears. It sickened Clara to hear how fast her parents were able to make a new life here and move on from their old one across the country. The socialites, or The Crows, as Clara called them, talked in overlapping, painfully drawn-out, meandering circles about the shiny things in life until they forgot what the point of their sentence was in the first place, or another round of champagne came by, and they paused for a moment to wet their beaks. Champagne. Oh, how Clara missed it. Drinking while taking the medication she was on was ill-advised, so she hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol in almost a whole year. Clara couldn’t risk damaging her health any more than it already was.

Her sneakers sank into the white carpet with every slow step. The oil paintings lining the walls seemed to watch Clara with their beady eyes. They watched her smooth her thick black hair with the palm of her hand. They watched her push her wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. The squawking subsided a second before she opened the back door.

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled in unison.

Her parents fit in with The Crows thanks to their perfectly ironed clothing and unnaturally white teeth. Her little brother stuck out as the only child there, as well as the only one in swimwear. A grand pool behind the group sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. A two-tiered cake and an assortment of snacks and drinks were laid out on a table to the right. There was a dollop of chocolate frosting missing on one side of the cake. Andy raced to Clara with green, Hulk-themed water floaties wrapped around his thin arms and a brown smudge on his chin. Clara crouched down and did her best not to topple over when Andy launched himself into her arms.

Guilt quickened Clara’s heart rate.

“I missed you,” she whispered into Andy’s wispy brown hair.

Chlorine filled Clara’s nose. When she stood up, parting from Andy, she missed the chemical scent.

“But my birthday was yesterday,” Clara said.

Her mother wrung her wrinkled hands. “Obviously, dear, we just really wanted it to be a surprise, so we planned to do it today. By the look on your face, I can tell you are so surprised.”

Clara decided she didn’t have the energy to think about whether this was true, or if Saturday just timed out better for more of The Crows to attend. She embraced her parents.

"Well, I'm sure surprised. I totally fell for you asking me to come over to help unpack.”

Clara’s mother pulled her to the wooden table. “I still need your help with that, but have a glass of something bubbly first.”

Her mother didn’t know about the medication.

Clara hated to say no to Andy’s pleading blue eyes, but she had to.

“I’m sorry, kid, I don’t have a bathing suit.”

She sat in a low folding chair that she had to make an effort not to grunt every time she got in and out of. Andy jumped up and down beside her, high on sugar.

“Please! Please! Please!” He chanted.

“You could drive down to Macy’s and buy a bathing suit,” their mother suggested. “It’ll only take 20 minutes.” She was about to say more before she was pulled into an important conversation about plates with the caterer.

Clara whipped her brother’s chin with a napkin. “Let’s save the pool for another time. It’s probably too chilly by now, anyway.”

Their father came by the table for his second slice of black forest cake. His silver hair matched his watch.

“I can get someone to turn on the heater,” he said.

“It’s alright, Dad; I’m not in the mood for a swim.”

The slice he cut was as thick as a dictionary. “Nonsense, go play in the pool with your brother. He’s been waiting all day.”

Clara’s voice took on an edge. “Dad, I don’t want to right now.”

Andy’s shoulders shook with the threat of a meltdown, ripping Clara to pieces. A few of The Crows stopped their squawking to look over their shoulders. She felt each of their eyes on her.

Her father leaned down to snarl in Clara’s ear. “You’re causing a scene. What will everyone think? Why won’t you just get in the pool?”

“Because I can’t,” she snapped back.

“You never spend time with your family anymore.” His breath was hot and sickly sweet.

"Well, I guess I learned that from you and Mom.”

She pointed at The Crows. Their jaws were on the ground, and their hands clutched their pearls. “You care about these people’s perception of me more than you actually care about me!” Clara shouted.

Red-hot anger bubbled up inside of her; she was a volcano ready to explode.

Her father hadn’t moved a single muscle. He was still bent at the waist with his hands on his khaki trousers. A small trickle of sweat running down his forehead was the only sign of irritation on his face.

“You’re spoiling everyone’s evening, Clara. Why? Why can’t you just do as I say?”

Clara rose from her chair with a grunt, no longer bothering to conceal the effort it took her. “You wanna know why? Fine. I’ll show you why.”

Clara started with her wig. She ripped off the mop of black hair and threw it on the ground. Underneath, only a few patches of honey-colored strands remained. She rolled up the sleeves of her light sweater to reveal bandages. With the bottom of her sweater, she rubbed off as much makeup from her face as she could bear. The exposed skin was red and tender.

“I couldn’t evacuate soon enough. I left one week after you, and this is what happened to me.”

All eyes fell on Clara, but no one could look her in the eye. Every face was contorted with fear.

A familiar wave of nausea spread through her body. Something dripped down onto her lips—something hot and metallic. Blood.

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”

This was the icing on the cake. She snatched the last three napkins off of the table. Her mother flinched away.

The blood from her nose seeped through the napkins and stained her face, loved ones looking at her warily as she stared back at them menacingly.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, it’s not like you can catch it. It’s the next bomb that you should be worried about.”

When she took a step forward, everyone took a step back. Her mother held Andy by the shoulders.

“This is who I am,” she said. “A survivor. You all need to stop pretending everything is fine, if not for yourselves, than for him.”

Clara locked eyes with her little brother. “Andy, promise me this, you’ll be a survivor, too, right?”