“Whoa,” Edward says, gesturing to her hair. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen your real hair color, I’d forgotten what it looked like.”

She laughs. “Yeah, you and me both.”

“Where’s Jasper?” he asks, hugging her.

“I imagine he’s Texas with his family.”


“It’s not like I watched him get on the plane.”

Edward’s eyes shift the way the do when he’s about to roll them, but I can’t tell if he does or doesn’t—he bows his head toward Alice’s shoulder, effectively hiding his face. When he finally looks up, his visage betrays nothing.  But the opened collar of his white button-down shirt exposes the frantic pulse of his jugular vein, letting me know it’s all a facade. I wonder if it was the same ten years ago—if even then there was evidence of what was boiling beneath his cool surface but I was too young and too dense to notice.

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