The dark Edward in my dream last night was a reflection only of my fear of the word Jacob had spoken, and not Edward himself.

But I really did like Jacob. He was someone I could easily be friends with.

It’s too bad you didn’t figure that out earlier. You could have saved yourself all this regret.

It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape.

I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief’s flight ex-wife, come home at last.

When they’d lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car’s bumper — a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward’s shoulders… as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame…

It’s better if we’re not friends. Trust me.

I never noticed before — your hair has red in it.

The more familiar someone’s… ‘voice’ is, the farther away I can hear them.