A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. SORRY IT TOOK 24545345384 YEARS. BUT IT'S FINALLY HERE. thank bullchizz155 for pm'ing and telling me to get off my butt and update. joy, i decided not to do it for the this epilogue, but i'll do it for the AU verse.

the most sincere and heartfelt thank yous to: mystiques, psychotic honeybadger of death, amazingxlivexlovexlaughx3, toolazytosignin, miyame-chan, outside the crayon box, insertrandomname17, cerulean cascades, jov, janainorwood,tammywammy9, my 3 guest reviewers, bullchizz155, titanuims, insanites, mattywattypatty, and frays/nalanda, the most fabulous person ever omg, for helping me hit 200 reviews. holyholy. thank you to so much you guys. thank you so much.

the cam/claire dance scene was inspired by dan/serena dance scene from the season one finale of gossip girl. ;3

in this chapter: i did a lot of throwbacks in this epilogue. also time skips. you get massie and claire. massington wedding. and clam. FLUFFY-HAPPY-ENDING WARNING. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

I HOPE YOU SHIPPERS ARE HAPPY. (and that jo comes back to life, because apparently i killed her from the lack of happy clam last time. ;3)

also pay mind to the quotes, ya'll. i picked them all to mean something!

enjoy, you guys.

Epilogue

"The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself,
unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over,
you cannot move forward."
― Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience, Steve Maraboli

2015
(two weeks later)

The courtroom had only just adjourned, but Claire had already mapped out her exit route beforehand to avoid the mob outside. Passing the forming crowd, straightening their clothes and slowly shuffling to the main exits and the lawyers, shuffling papers on their tables and snapping briefcases closed, she wound her way through. Claire gave a small nod in goodbye to Detective Summers as she passed, but continued on her way.

She left through the side doors guarded by the bailiffs and into the blessed quiet of the deserted courthouse hallway. They shut the door behind her with a bang and Claire slumped, the false façade of self-assured confidence leaving her. Her hands shook as she ran them through her tight bun to release it. She shook out her hair and closed her eyes.

It was harder than she ever imagined… to stand in front of cameras and news networks and lawyers and strangers and spill her life story… to publicly condemn the people she wished she could have her whole life… to do it the right way.

The look of shock on William and Kendra's faces when they called Claire Lyons to the stand and she had stood, the looks of growing horror on the faces of the audience and the jury as they listened to her tale. It didn't fill her with vindication or the sense of justice anymore. It only left her feeling lightweight, almost hollow.

Claire shut her eyes, making her way down the hall.

Her footsteps faltered when she reopened them after rounding the corner. Massie Block stood at the end of the hall. Her back was to her, but Claire recognized her brown hair, pulled into a side pony. She made to head back the way she had come, but Massie turned at the sound of her footsteps and now Claire was forced to keep walking.

It was the only way to the exit anyways. She swallowed, wiping her sweaty palms along the back of her Theory slacks self-consciously. Claire couldn't read Massie's expression hidden behind her Fendi sunglasses, but she assumed it wouldn't be very welcoming.

After all, Claire had just exposed her family's dirtiest secrets.

William and Kendra might be put away for a long, long time.

Claire wondered if she should leave a wide berth between them, in case Massie lashed out. But then, Massie hadn't faltered at all in all her Kristen confrontations and she hadn't lost her cool during the whole court session. She reconsidered. Plus, if she actually did turn back around or avoided her, it would be obvious… and really awkward.

Massie tilted her head at her when she neared, her arms across her chest and Donna Karan blazer. "I wouldn't," she muttered, before turning back around.

Claire almost froze, staring at Massie's back with wide, confused eyes. "Uh…"

Massie turned her head back to look at her. She pushed her sunglasses up and raised her brows like Claire was an idiot. "…Leave? The media is in a frenzy outside. I'd wait."

Claire slowed to a stop next to her. Now that Massie had pointed it out, she could hear the shouts outside. She could just picture the mob outside that awaited her. She now understood why Massie had stopped in this particular hallway. She exhaled loudly through her mouth and shut her eyes.

Her mind whirled for words.

…What do you say to someone you lied to for months?

The same thing she said to Cam, she guessed. She shifted on her Jeffrey Campbell booties and opened her mouth to speak.

But Massie cut across her. "Save it," she muttered, waving her hand in the air.

Claire stopped the words in her mouth with a wince. She glanced down and played with the hem of her Theory blazer. She glanced up at Massie and tried again. She needed her to know.

"But I am though…" she muttered. Sorry, that was. The words caught in her throat. Massie didn't want or need apologizes. So like with Cam, Claire wouldn't give them. "It was wrong… what I was did… what I was doing."

Massie was the one to exhale loudly now. She turned to Claire with a small shake of her head. "I've never been a big believer of karma."

Claire watched her, searching her face for answers. It seemed like everything she was saying today threw Claire off her game. Maybe that was how it always was, how it always would be. Mara had been at Massie's level, but Claire… not so much.

Massie's lips twisted in a bitter frown. "I mean, why would I? The thought of payback… or divine intervention… a force out for reckoning… the idea would definitely terrify someone like me, right?"

She could only stare at her, open mouthed.

"Well, I believe it now," Massie laughed, a bit unhinged, but she didn't turn away. She stared straight into Claire's eyes. "Now… I welcome it."

"I—" Claire winced again. Layne had been right. Since she had arrived back in Westchester, Claire had acted as if it was her duty to enact revenge, to dispense justice. She had convinced herself she had to be the one to bring these people what they deserved, but who was she to decide?

Maybe she should give Layne a medal. She had been right about everything.

"It's not like that—" Claire started to say, but the words died at her lips at the hostile look Massie shot her.

"Spare me, Kuh-laire," Massie smoothed down her side pony. She seemed to be staring off into the distance, thinking of something deeper than Claire standing in front of her. She turned back though, and met her eyes again. "I don't need to hear your sob story. I actually get it."

Claire blinked at that.

"If anyone had done that to my parents…" She shook her head, staring at Claire and letting her know that she would have done the exact same thing in her place.

Claire swallowed. That was exactly what she had never wanted. She had thought that she and Massie were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Massie rich where Claire was poor, spoiled where she was humble, cruel where she was nice, vengeful where she was forgiving. She had been wrong. Wrong about everything.

They were more alike than Claire had ever realized.

Claire had taken everything that Massie was; watched and learned and adapted to herself. Claire was Mara and Mara was Massie.

…But was that so bad? Claire had already known that. Mara was vengeance made art. She was bad for Claire, but she also was Claire. Maybe it was just hearing the words out loud that made her feel a bit sour.

She was finding a balance though. She wasn't hiding either part of herself.

Masse spoke, drawing her out of her musings. "I'm actually kind of impressed."

Claire couldn't stop her choke. "What?"

"I would never have thought you had it in you," Massie smiled slowly, ruefully and contritely. "Maybe I shouldn't have picked on you so much all those years ago, huh?"

Claire remembered the once-over Massie had given her on the steps of her house when she had first arrived, the instant write-off, the dismissal, the crushing handshake.

"It's almost …poetic," Massie hummed, tilting her head at her, "that it was you."

Claire cleared her throat uncomfortably. Of course, Massie would find it impressive. She bit down on her grin.

Her small laugh broke the tension and both girls relaxed fractionally.

"I'm glad I didn't take you down too," Claire joked, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "I would have missed all your backhanded comments."

"Oh, no doubt," Massie nodded, faux-serious. "I mean, who else could keep up?"

Claire hummed, tapping her finger against her lip. She grinned teasingly. "Well, I don't know. …It wasn't that hard. Maybe you're just not as good as you always thought you were."

Massie's jaw slackened. Claire giggled at her expression and danced out of the way from Massie's playful swipe. They straightened up and stared at each other, slowly sobering.

Massie cleared her throat and plucked non-existent lint from her Kate Spade skirt, her bangles clanging on her wrist. It was loud in the silence that descended.

"Massie," Claire finally whispered when she could stand the tension any longer. "I am sorry, okay? I won't deny that I didn't have it out for you in the beginning, but anything… bad that's happened to you since I came back… it was crosshairs. You were just fallout. …All of you were… Alicia, Dylan, Kristen, and Cam," she choked on him name, but forced herself to continue. "I'm not like that …at least not anymore. I'm different now. I know now."

Massie finally looked up at her words and Claire held her breath.

All Claire could do in life was try and make amends. She had forgiven. She had forgiven the people who had done some bad things and allowed fate to takes its course, to try its hand now. She was stepping back and trusting that people would do the right thing, that light would win out in the end. And now it was her turn; her turn to atone for her mistakes, for her revenge.

Claire had to forgive herself.

And for Claire to do that, she had to let everyone she had hurt know how sorry she was. It was just who she was, who her father had raised her to be.

Massie's solemn façade cracked and she grinned.

"Too bad," she said, her brow raised.

And once again, Claire was shocked into speechlessness.

"It was almost fun." It was Massie's turn to giggle at Claire's expression. "Being kept on my toes."

"You're kidding," she croaked out.

This was basically Massie's form of telling her she was forgiven and Claire could scarcely believe it. She shook her head at her, feeling lightheaded and dazed from her sense of relief. It was almost palpable.

She didn't know how much she had feared Massie's response until now. Claire had grown attached to Layne and reconnected with her. She had purchased Kristen's house and she was putting it on the market. She wanted to stay in Westchester… but she had known that Massie's wrath might have made that impossible… but now, the impossible had happened. Massie wasn't going to murder her. Massie didn't hate her. Massie respected her.

Claire released the breath that she had been holding in, still wide-eyed.

"No," Massie laughed lightly. "That would have been cruel …even for me."

Claire couldn't help but laugh along with her.

God, if Massie could forgive her for all that she had done, could admit that she grudgingly respected her, when Claire had destroyed her life, almost ruined her relationship, was about to put her parents away for life… Then maybe Claire was capable of forgiveness, maybe worthy of it in a way.

Her breath caught at the realization.

This.

This was what true absolution felt like. This was what forgiveness felt like. This must be what being free felt like.

Claire found that she liked the feeling.

.

.

.

2015
(one month later)

The night was warm, but not extremely so. It must have been the last warm night in Westchester before the heat broke and autumn finally ascended. The late August sun was only just setting and peeked out through the wispy clouds, painting the sky orange and pink and red. The slight breeze the blew through rustled the surrounding shrubs of the Harrington estate, primed to perfection just for this event, and sent the sweet smell of hydrangeas into the air.

Claire wasn't surprised when security stopped guests for a second search. After what happened with Chase… well, she didn't blame Massie or Derrick for being extra cautious at all.

She followed the tinkling sound of classical music and the chattering of upper-crust guests, and paying mind to the lavender and white mesh that matched the ceremony colors earlier this morning flowing from the ceiling, made her way into the giant tent for the reception. While there had been party lights decorating the yard outside, the inside of the tent was lit up by dangling chandeliers that cast a soft glow on everything from the candles, to the flowers, to the silverware, to the guests.

A photographer snapped her photo on the way in, blinding her. She couldn't tell if it was one of Massie's own for her wedding memories or if it was someone from the news.

Claire Lyons, a guest, at the Harrington-Block wedding. The horror, she snorted.

Ignoring the muttering and whispering of the guests that spotted and recognized her—she had grown desensitized—Claire made her way through the tables and chairs towards Layne.

"Hey. How are you holding up?" Layne asked her as when she flopped down next to her. She didn't even care if it wrinkled her embroidered Roberto Cavalli gown. It was flowy and sweet and almost white. Like a wedding gown. Before… everything that had happened, she had planned to give Massie an ulcer with it at her own wedding. Everyone knew you never wore white to a wedding, but she wasn't aiming to do that now though, she just hadn't had the heart to re-plan all her outfits. It was a lot of effort in a place like Westchester. And now that Massie and she were on… good, and twisted terms, she'd find it funny. Maybe. Probably.

"I'm fine—" Claire was cut off by Layne's fierce look. She shot Layne one back. "I am fine though. What do you expect me to say? 'These people are hurting my feelings?'" She rolled her eyes at that notion. "I knew this was going to happen, Layne. Before I gave it up to the police and before I decided to stay."

Layne grabbed her hand at that and Claire looked up at her in surprise.

"Listen," her friend said intently, lowering her voice. "I know I told you I wanted you to stay… but no one should have to put up with this kind of stuff. Especially not you and—"

"Layne," Claire cut her off with a soft smile. "It's okay, it's fine. Honestly. I'm fine. I knew all this before I decided because I knew what Westchester was like …but, I think when the truth finally comes out… all this," she cast a glance at the scathing looks she was receiving and turned quickly back to Layne, "all this whispering will die down."

"And if it…doesn't?" Layne stressed. She shot nasty glares at the guests at the next table. They turned away quickly, visibly cowed.

"Then it doesn't and I deal," Claire gave a lighthearted shrug and her friend's hand a squeeze.

She squeezed back. "I just wanted to make sure that you know you don't have to do all this for me."

"I know," Claire muttered. She shifted her eyes and removed her hand from her friend's grip. It was Layne, but it wasn't all Layne. She was staying for Kristen's house and Massie and Alicia and Dylan. Westchester was basically the only home she had left. And there were some good things here, Claire had found. She wanted to stay and experience it.

She completely left out the very person that she wanted to stay the most for.

Cam.

Layne's voice drew her out of her thoughts.

"Well, you're sure taking this very well," Layne narrowed her eyes at her in fake suspicion.

Claire smiled brightly. "What can I say? I've had lots of practice."

"I'll say," A voice suddenly spoke. Claire and Layne startled out of their huddle and looked up.

It was Alicia, changed out of her bridesmaid gown and into a daring asymmetrical cut out, complete with sequins and feathers. Claire stood to embrace her, but stopped at the sound of Dylan's voice.

"You didn't," she gasped. Alicia bit down on her bold red lips to stop her laughter and Claire looked down and straightened the flowy portion of her dress with a contrite look.

"It's not exactly white," she tried with a shrug. She tried not to laugh at the scandalized look on Dylan's face, but she met Alicia's eyes, her face tight with suppressed laughter, and they both lost it.

"It's basically ivory," Dylan stressed over their cackles. "The only thing you're missing is lace and people will think you're the bride."

"No," Claire rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "They won't. I think they'll be able to tell between Massie and Claire, brunette and blonde, tanned and pale."

"I swear, it's like you have a death wish," Dylan whined.

Alicia bumped Dylan in the hip and wrapped an arm around Claire. "Don't worry about it, Dyl. Mass is already changed."

"Yeah, she probably had like, 2 custom gowns made for tonight."

"Three," Alicia smirked at Claire. She turned to Layne. "We're stealing Mara now. Reception duties for the 'honorary' bridesmaid, you know how it is."

Emphasis on the honorary. Massie had wanted Claire as one of her bridesmaids, whether it was because of the scandal and notoriety it would cause or because it would look like the Blocks, or more specifically Massie, had no hard feelings and was looking to repent or because Massie liked Claire, she didn't know. But William Block had raised a storm, swearing not to walk his daughter down the aisle if that ever happened. And after all the trouble Massie and Derrick had with release papers just for the wedding, Massie gave it up as too much work to accommodate both of them.

"Oh no," Layne rolled her green eyes at Claire. "That means I'll never get you back," she raised her hand as if Claire were disappearing before her very eyes. "They're going to swallow you whole. I'll never see you again."

"Our final goodbye," Claire called wistfully; raising her hand too as Alicia and Dylan pulled her away, holding in their giggles.

"You guys are so weird," Alicia shook her head, her dark curls bouncing, as they wound their way though tables and milling guests and photographers.

Claire grinned toothily. "I know."

"No, what's even weirder is calling you Claire," Dylan wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I've ever get used to it."

"That's why I just say Kuh-laire," Massie smirked as they approached. Derrick stood next to her, receiving guests. She was out of her custom made wedding gown and into her Alexander McQueen reception gown, embroidered with leaves and gold tarnishing and draped articulately on her thin frame and flaring out at the bottom. She looked radiant, her updo sprinkled with rice and glitter that proved her just married status. "Just like old times."

"Yeah," Claire remarked, releasing her linked arms from Dylan and Alicia. She bit down on her glossed lips to hide her smile. "Such fond memories."

Massie smirked wider. "Yeah, great associations, right? Where I ruled and terrorized everybody and squished anyone who got in my way."

"Old times? Memories?" Derrick said, turning into their conversation as the guests he had been talking to walked away. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure that's still the case."

Massie swatted at him, but he caught her wrist and pulled her in for a kiss. A photographer snapped their picture.

"Save it for the honeymoon," Alicia chided, clapping her hands loudly at them.

Dylan smirked. "Yeah. You'll wear yourself out that this rate."

Derrick looked like he was going to make a dirty comment, but Massie pushed him away. "Go find your friends or make yourself useful somewhere."

"But come back in ten minutes exactly for the first dance!" Alicia called loudly as Derrick left. "Ten minutes!" she screeched. She turned back to her friends with a huff. "All this maid of honor stuff is giving me grey hair."

Dylan snorted and Massie grinned.

"Laugh now," Alicia warned, "But I'm going to run you ragged when it's my turn."

"I can't wait," Dylan smiled as she followed after Alicia, who had flounced away in fake anger to set up the playlist.

Massie turned to Claire when they were alone. "So, having fun?"

Claire forced herself to smile brightly. "Uh-huh. You look great."

Massie beamed. "Thanks." She linked arms with Claire and led her to make rounds. Cameras flashed. "So, have you talked to you-know-who yet?"

"He's not Voldemort, Massie," Claire rolled her eyes. "You can say his name; I'm not going run away in terror."

"I knew you were made of tougher stuff," Massie shot Claire a sly look. "Friends of mine have to be."

It was remnant of another time, where Massie had said the very same words to Mara to test her. But even if Claire wasn't able to handle it, she would have to adapt fast. Life in Westchester required it.

"Does this mean I'm actually getting your permission?" Claire asked, not faking her shock, but faking the tone of her voice.

Massie took her time to answer, smiling at guests and giving them waves and greetings. Claire waited impatiently until she turned back. "I think that Cam really liked you. And you really liked him."

Stunned, Claire blinked at the words. Coming from Massie, of all people.

"You made him happy, as Claire, Mara, whatever," Massie finally said, turning to look her in the eyes. At Claire's shock, she rolled her eyes. "Cam's one of my friends and all I've ever wanted was to set him up with somebody. I thought maybe Dylan, but now that she has J.T., well," she shrugged as if to say, 'what can you do?

Claire choked out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, I didn't make him so happy, in the end."

Massie patted her arm, but before they could say more, Alicia's voice through the microphone was echoing around the open tent and the Harrington grounds from where she stood at the stage. Massie released her arm with a squeeze and headed over to the front.

Claire, along with the others, clapped as Massie ascended to the dance floor, Derrick met her on the other side. Cameras flashed and guests watched with soft looks as they twirled to their first couples dance. Soft confetti blew in the breeze, shimmering in the golden light, and Massie's tinkling laughter rang out from Derrick's sudden dip. Claire turned away, making to head back to her seat, but Dylan grasped onto her. She turned in surprise.

"Wh—"

"Bridesmaids dance next," Dylan chided, pulling her closer to the floor.

"But I don't—"

"Massie will kill you if you mess up her line up."

Claire felt her heart fluttering in panic. She couldn't go out there! She tried to dig her heels into the ground, but Dylan shot her a look, tugging on her arm. She overbalanced and ended up swinging onto the dance floor, tittering on her heels.

"You'll thank me later," Dylan smiled.

"What? Dyl—" Her breath caught when Claire caught sight of him. She swirled back around to Dylan, but she was already swept up and twirling away with J.T. Claire wanted to hit her.

She turned back around and met Layne's eyes, knowing her glare held the promise of pain. Layne grinned at her look and pushed Cam closer to her. "I'll accept my payment of thanks in food, please," her ex-best-friend told them, ignoring the glares by both Cam and Claire, before giving a cocky bow and whirling away too.

Claire stepped back and away from him, clearing her throat. She didn't meet Cam's eyes.

"Excuse me," she choked out before turning away.

Massie swept by with Derrick with a fierce glare, blocking her path, deliberately. "You're trying to ruin my reception, aren't you, Kuh-laire? Get to dancing."

Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Alicia turned up the music right at that moment, stopping the words in her throat. They had planned this. She hated all of them. She really did.

They didn't get it. It wasn't that Claire didn't want to dance with him. It wasn't that Claire didn't want to talk to him. It wasn't that Claire wasn't aching to look at him.

It was that she couldn't.

It was Cam. She remembered the things they had said, the things she had done. The look on his face and the way she had hurt him. They hadn't been there. They didn't see him after the reveal. Tears prickled in her eyes and the taste of bitterness flooded her mouth.

She turned back, but didn't look at him.

"You don't have to," she gasped out. "They're just bein—"

"Being friends," Cam muttered. He held out his hand. "It's okay."

Claire stared at his hand for a moment, before sobering up and placing her own into his. Like the first time their hands interlocked, it was so innocent, yet it felt so intimate. Like they were connected. She tried not to let the feeling of his hand in hers, his other on the small of her bare back, his scent, and his presence get to her head.

Her whole body already felt tingly, her head light with dizziness.

The soft music continued to play and Cam swept her into movement slowly. They swayed to the music, Claire keeping her eyes on his tie.

"I don't think they're watching anymore," she mumbled after a moment.

"I know," Cam mumbled back. She could feel his breath, rustling over her blonde hair. She shut her eyes at the sensation.

"You can let go now," Claire whispered softly.

"I know," Cam whispered again.

But his hands stayed where it was, entwined with hers and his arms stayed wrapped around her waist, cocooning her in warmth and tingly feelings and him. Claire found her eyes opening and herself chancing a glance up.

Cam met her eyes. Blue on blue, her favorite.

She stopped swaying, stopped dancing, stopped breathing, and stared at him.

"I don't want to," he confided in her.

Claire blinked back her tears; scarcely daring to breath, scarcely daring to believe, scarcely daring to hope.

"Cam—" she choked out. "I'm not good—"

"Don't," he interrupted her. He shook his head roughly and stopped. "Don't say that." His mis-matched eyes burned into her and Claire couldn't stop the tears that trailed down her cheeks. He squeeze her hand in his tighter and the words came out, rushed and stressed and above all, sincere. "You're the only girl that I've ever… l—liked. As Claire, as Mara. It's always, always been you. …That must mean something, right?"

Claire couldn't look away.

"About me, about you. About us…"

Heated and higher than a hot air balloon, Claire could only stare at him in disbelief.

"That says something, Claire," Cam stressed, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He didn't brush it away, his hands stayed on her. With a shaking hand, Claire breached the distance and reached up between them, brushing it back for him. He shut his eyes at her ministrations.

Did it? Claire could never stay away. She had known not to involve herself with him. But Claire had done it anyways, unable to pull away. Even Mara had lived and breathed and craved the feelings Cam brought out her… good and cherished and loved. It had brought out Claire in her times of desperation. It had reminded her of herself, of Claire deep down, of hope.

Claire wasn't all Mara anymore, but she still needed him.

She loved him.

But she wasn't good for him. She loved him, but he deserved better. She had lied to him and hurt him and she was all wrong for him.

Cam released her waist and tilted her head up until their eyes met again. "I think so, Claire. What do you think?"

"I don't know," Claire replied slowly, struggling to find words.

At her words, Cam let her go and Claire felt the numbness starting to seep back. Her heart, broken and cracked from the last time he had walked away, stuttered in her heart, yelling at her to reach back out, grab him back, and never let go. She didn't though. There was silence for a while as guests twirled and danced and laughed and dances around them, standing a foot away from each other, motionless on the dance floor, with eyes only for each other.

Cam didn't walk away though. He stayed standing, watching her, something unreadable in his eyes.

"Do you want to take the time, the chance to find out?"

Time. Chance. Another try. ...Another chance.

Cam was forgiving her. Offering her hope, offering her happiness, offering her love.

Did she deserve it? If Layne, Massie, Alicia, Dylan, her father, Cam could forgive her, could she forgive herself?

Cam held out his hand again. The meaning behind it infinitely more deep than just another dance. It was another chance, another shot.

And this time, when Claire reached out and placed her hand in his, she did it without hesitation.

It would take time, it would take work, it would take everything they had, but trust, love, forgiveness would help pave the way.

.

.

.

"Yeah, forgiveness doesn't change what happened.
It doesn't change the past — but it does change the future.
Your future. It changes you."
— Me

.

.

.

A/N: i want to thank you for giving this a chance. thank you for understanding the end of claire's journey and not coming after me with pitchforks and fire for not fighting fire with fire, revenge for revenge. thank for you understanding and appreciating my message for claire's journey.

thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed and liked and followed and favorited and nominated my story. thank you so, so, so much. it meant to world to me.

i love you all.

see you all next time. kisses!