Everything changed in the span of a blink. On Tabula Rasa, the sun always shone as though it would never have the same chance to again, smiling at them from above, warming everything from the air to the sands under their feet, the scent of flowers and fruit in the air, too sweet from overripe fruit which tumble to the ground. Even without opening her eyes, Claire could feel the difference, the shadow which was cast over the whole of her body and the smoke which lingered in the air, traces of gasoline. The crash of waves was replaced by the zoom of cars, beeping which pierced through the constant din. And in that moment, Claire found that even though she had asked for this, had wanted to return to New York with all of her heart, the pieces weren't quite fitting right.

She remembered, first of all. Remembered all of Tabula Rasa, the friends she'd made, the tears she'd shed, the kisses she'd shared. That was never part of the bargain. She never wanted to remember, to be pulled back by nostalgia.

Besides, it was daytime. And the last thing she remembered in Kirby Plaza was, well. The spread of colors through the sky. An explosion that lingered in a burst of fire.

Claire's eyes opened and her expression fell, looking around until she saw a leaf of a newspaper flying through Kirby Plaza, running toward it with all her might until she stamped it down with her foot.

Nathan Petrelli Wins in Landslide

November 7th.

"I've got a day," Claire suddenly whispered to herself, eyes going wide.