Allison was silent a beat too long on that question. The white noise silence of the air conditioning only there to fill it. Because the answer gave away too much. Maybe began to paint the picture of how much had been going on in her life that no one else even knew about in this last week. Except for Klaus. As much as Klaus could be counted on to remember much of anything while he was drunk the whole time.

When it comes down to it, she can't lie. It's been years; it's been days. It isn't what they were doing here, in this strange, strange place. Trying, to be honest, feels like sheering her skin, especially when she almost says 'yes,' but stops herself from using the easy, momentary evasion of the flat, singular response.

She frowned at the ceiling,
making herself say instead,
"Three days ago."

That same day as the godawful dinner with their father, who it turned out was an asshole even without raising six superhero-kids to save the world to blame it on. The one before Luther came to her and said they could go home, and she let herself crack open That Door. Not knowing how much she still had to lose, would lose, would break and shatter perhaps irreparably, and how much she still wouldn't get in return.

Another universe, but not Claire.