Clary slipped an arm around Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her close. “You’re in our time now. You get to decide what you want to do, and I think Arthur needs to know that.”
Gwen’s mind went blank, a hollow sensation stealing over her. It took her a moment to recognize it as a species of fear. “This is going to cause trouble.”
They began walking again, drifting in the direction of Clary’s car. “You don’t need to decide everything at once,” said Clary. “In fact, you shouldn’t. You need time to breathe and clear your head, and so does he.”
“But where?”
“You can stay with me at my hotel,” Clary suggested, warming to the plan. “I have a double room, and we’ve got all your clothes right here. It’s as if this was meant to be.”
It made sense. It made perfect sense, and Gwen’s instincts grabbed at the offer. Yet, old habits died hard. “What do I tell Arthur?”
“That there is one more thing you need to buy,” Clary replied. “Every independent woman needs a suitcase.”
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