at work, and, when we were together, he liked people to look at us, to see me on his arm. I liked that, too. There were lots of parties, dancing, and pretty dresses. When you were a King, every door was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you. “It wasn’t a long engagement. Plans went ahead for the most lavish wedding. It was going to be everything I’d ever wanted. I was completely happy. When I called at Vera’s, I no longer felt jealous. I pictured my fair- haired children playing on the huge lawns of the Kings’ estate, and I pitied her.” Rosalie broke off suddenly, clenching her teeth together. It pulled me out of her story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no happy ending, as she’d promised. I wondered if this was why she had so much more bitterness in her than the rest of them — because she’d been within reach of everything she’d wanted when her human life was cut short. “I was at Vera’s that night,” Rosalie whispered. Her face was smooth as marble, and as hard. “Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and dimples — he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door as I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasn’t looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasn’t quite the same — not so sweet somehow. . . . I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my prince. Someday, I would be queen.” It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler. “It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn’t realized how late it was.” She continued to whisper almost inaudibly. “It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home — I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this, when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . .” She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to have to move the wedding indoors. . . . “I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp, laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it seemed silly. And then he called my name. “‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly. “I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other rich men. “‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold, you’ve kept us waiting so long.’” “I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger. “He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta. “‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pullingme closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?’ “The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was buying. “‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’ “They laughed, Royce like the rest. “Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass buttons off. They scattered all over the street. “‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain. . . .” Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers. Unless it was green. “I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride. He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first. “I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn’t dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the pain. It was taking so long. . . . “Carlisle found me then. He’d smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I’d never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother — as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that the men were. But they didn’t mingle in society, so I’d only seen them once or twice. “I thought I’d died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me — because of the speed — it felt like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn’t stop. . . . “Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he’d brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn’t care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too. Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn’t believe him. He apologized each time I screamed. “Edward wasn’t happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no good to scream. “‘What were you thinking, Carlisle?’ Edward said. ‘Rosalie Hale?’” Rosalie imitated Edward’s irritated tone to perfection. “I didn’t like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me. “‘I couldn’t just let her die,’ Carlisle said quietly. ‘It was too much — too horrible, too much waste.’ “‘I know,’ Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn’t know then that he really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen. “‘It was too much waste. I couldn’t leave her,’ Carlisle repeated in a whisper. “‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Esme agreed. “‘People die all the time,’ Edward reminded him in a hard voice. ‘Don’t you think she’s just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend,’ he growled. “It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty. “I didn’t realize that it was almost over — that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips. “‘What are we going to do with her?’ Edward said disgustedly — or that’s how it sounded to me, at least. “Carlisle sighed. ‘That’s up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way.’ “I’d believed enough of what he’d told me that his words terrified me. I knew that my life was ended, and there was no going back for me. I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. . . . “The pain finally ended and they explained to me again what I was. This time I believed. I felt the thirst, my hard skin; I saw my brilliant red eyes. “Shallow as I was, I felt better when I saw my reflection in the mirror the first time. Despite the eyes, I was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” She laughed at herself for a moment. “It took some time before I began to blame the beauty for what had happened to me — for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been . . . well, not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved me, and have pretty babies. That’s what I’d really wanted, all along. It still doesn’t seem like too much to have asked for.” She was thoughtful for a moment, and I wondered if she’d forgotten my presence again. But then she smiled at me, her expression suddenly triumphant. “You know, my record is almost as clean as Carlisle’s,” she told me. “Better than Esme. A thousand times better than Edward. I’ve never tasted human blood,” she announced proudly. She understood my puzzled expression as I wondered why her record was only almost as clean. “I did murder five humans,” she told me in a complacent tone. “If you can really call them human. But I was very careful not to spill their blood — I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist that, and I didn’t want any part of them in me, you see. “I saved Royce for last. I hoped that he would hear of his friends’ deaths and understand, know what was coming for him. I hoped the fear would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault’s, guarded outside by armed men, when I caught up with him. Oops — seven murders,” she corrected herself. “I forgot about his guards. They only took a second.” “I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. I wore a wedding dress I’d stolen for the occasion. He screamed when he saw me. He screamed a lot that night. Saving him for last was a good idea — it made it easier for me to control myself, to make it slower —” She broke off suddenly, and she glanced down at me. “I’m sorry,” she said in a chagrined voice. “I’m frightening you, aren’t I?” “I’m fine,” I lied. “I got carried away.” “Don’t worry about it.” “I’m surprised Edward didn’t tell you more about it.” “He doesn’t like to tell other people’s stories — he feels like he’s betraying confidences, because he hears so much more than just the parts they mean for him to hear.” She smiled and shook her head. “I probably ought to give him more credit. He’s really quite decent, isn’t he?” “I think so.” “I can tell.” Then she sighed. “I haven’t been fair to you, either, Bella. Did he tell you why? Or was that too confidential?” “He said it was because I was human. He said it was harder for you to have someone on the outside who knew.” Rosalie’s musical laughter interrupted me. “Now I really feel guilty. He’s been much, much kinder to me than I deserve.” She seemed warmer as she laughed, like she’d let down some guard that had never been absent in my presence before. “What a liar that boy is.” She laughed again. “He was lying?” I asked, suddenly wary. “Well, that’s probably putting it too strongly. He just didn’t tell you the whole story. What he told you was true, even truer now than it was before. However, at the time . . .” She broke off, chuckling nervously. “It’s embarrassing. You see, at first, I was mostly jealous because he wanted you and not me.” Her words sent a thrill of fear through me. Sitting there in the silver light, she was more beautiful than anything else I could imagine. I could not compete with Rosalie. “But you love Emmett . . . ,” I mumbled. She shook her head back and forth, amused. “I don’t want Edward that way, Bella. I never did — I love him as a brother, but he’s irritated me from the first moment I heard him speak. You have to understand, though . . . I was so used to people wanting me. And Edward wasn’t the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But he never wanted anyone, so it didn’t bother me long. Even when we first met Tanya’s clan in Denali — all those females! — Edward never showed the slightest preference. And then he met you.” She looked at me with confused eyes. I was only half paying attention. I was thinking about Edward and Tanya and all those females, and my lips pressed together in a hard line. “Not that you aren’t pretty, Bella,” she said, misreading my expression. “But it just meant that he found you more attractive than me. I’m vain enough that I minded.” “But you said ‘at first.’ That doesn’t still . . . bother you, does it? I mean, we both know you’re the most beautiful person on the planet.” I laughed at having to say the words — it was so obvious. How odd that Rosalie should need such reassurances. Rosalie laughed, too. “Thanks, Bella. And no, it doesn’t really bother me anymore. Edward has always been a little strange.” She laughed again. “But you still don’t like me,” I whispered. Her smile faded. “I’m sorry about that.” We sat in silence for a moment, and she didn’t seem inclined to go on. “Would you tell me why? Did I do something . . . ?” Was she angry that I’d put her family — her Emmett — in danger? Time and time again. James, and now Victoria . . . “No, you haven’t done anything,” she murmured. “Not yet.” I stared at her, perplexed. “Don’t you see, Bella?” Her voice was suddenly more passionate than before, even while she’d told her unhappy story. “You already have everything. You have a whole life ahead of you — everything I want. And you’re going to just throw it away. Can’t you see that I’d trade everything I have to be you? You have the choice that I didn’t have, and you’re choosing wrong!” I flinched back from her fierce expression. I realized my mouth had fallen open and I snapped it shut. She stared at me for a long moment and, slowly, the fervor in her eyes dimmed. Abruptly, she was abashed. “And I was so sure that I could do this calmly.” She shook her head, seeming a little dazed by the flood of emotion. “It’s just that it’s harder now than it was then, when it was no more than vanity.” She stared at the moon in silence. It was a few moments before I was brave enough to break into her reverie. “Would you like me better if I chose to stay human?” She turned back to me, her lips twitching into a hint of a smile. “Maybe.” “You did get some of your happy ending, though,” I reminded her. “You got Emmett.” “I got half.” She grinned. “You know that I saved Emmett from a bear that was mauling him, and carried him home to Carlisle. But can you guess why I stopped the bear from eating him?” I shook my head. “With the dark curls . . . the dimples that showed even while he was grimacingin pain . . . the strange innocence that seemed so out of place on a grown man’s face . . . he reminded me of Vera’s little Henry. I didn’t want him to die — so much that, even though I hated this life, I was selfish enough to ask Carlisle to change him for me. “I got luckier than I deserved. Emmett is everything I would have asked for if I’d known myself well enough to know what to ask for. He’s exactly the kind of person someone like me needs. And, oddly enough, he needs me, too. That part worked out better than I could have hoped. But there will never be more than the two of us. And I’ll never sit on a porch somewhere, with him gray-haired by my side, surrounded by our grandchildren.” Her smile was kind now. “That sounds quite bizarre to you, doesn’t it? In some ways, you are much more mature than I was at eighteen. But in other ways . . . there are many things you’ve probably never thought about seriously. You’re too young to know what you’ll want in ten years, fifteen years — and too young to give it all up without thinking it through. You don’t want to be rash about permanent things, Bella.” She patted my head, but the gesture didn’t feel condescending. I sighed. “Just think about it a little. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone. Esme’s made do with us as substitutes . . . and Alice doesn’t remember anything human so she can’t miss it. . . . You will remember, though. It’s a lot to give up.” But more to get in return, I didn’t say aloud. “Thanks, Rosalie. It’s nice to understand . . . to know you better.” “I apologize for being such a monster.” She grinned. “I’ll try to behave myself from now on.” I grinned back at her. We weren’t friends yet, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t always hate me so much. “I’ll let you sleep now.” Rosalie’s eyes flickered to the bed, and her lips twitched. “I know you’re frustrated that he’s keeping you locked up like this, but don’t give him too bad a time when he gets back. He loves you more than you know. It terrifies him to be away from you.” She got up silently and ghosted to the door. “Goodnight, Bella,” she whispered as she shut it behind herself. “Goodnight, Rosalie,” I murmured a second too late. It took me a long time to fall asleep after that. When I did sleep, I had a nightmare. I was crawling across the dark, cold stones of an unfamiliar street, under lightly falling snow, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind me. A shadowy angel in a long white dress watched my progress with resentful eyes. The next morning, Alice drove me to school while I stared grumpily out the windshield. I was feeling sleep-deprived, and it made the irritation of my imprisonment that much stronger. “Tonight we’ll go out to Olympia or something,” she promised. “That would be fun, right?” “Why don’t you just lock me in the basement,” I suggested, “and forget the sugar coating?” Alice frowned. “He’s going to take the Porsche back. I’m not doing a very good job. You’re supposed to be having fun.” “It’s not your fault,” I muttered. I couldn’t believe I actually felt guilty. “I’ll see you at lunch.” I trudged off to English. Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable. I sulked through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn’t helping anything. When the bell rang, I got up without much enthusiasm. Mike was there at the door, holding it open for me. “Edward hiking this weekend?” he asked sociably as we walked out into the light rain. “Yeah.” “You want to do something tonight?” How could he still sound hopeful? “Can’t. I’ve got a slumber party,” I grumbled. He gave me a strange look as he processed my mood. “Who are you —” Mike’s question was cut short as a loud, growling roar erupted from behind us in the parking lot. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to look, staring in disbelief as the noisy black motorcycle screeched to a stop on the edge of the concrete, the engine still snarling. Jacob waved to me urgently. “Run, Bella!” he yelled over the engine’s roar. I was frozen for a second before I understood. I looked at Mike quickly. I knew I only had seconds. How far would Alice go to restrain me in public? “I got really sick and went home, okay?” I said to Mike, my voice filled with sudden excitement. “Fine,” he muttered. I pecked Mike swiftly on the cheek. “Thanks, Mike. I owe you one!” I called as I sprinted away. Jacob revved his engine, grinning. I jumped on the back of his seat, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. I caught sight of Alice, frozen at the edge of the cafeteria, her eyes sparking with fury, her lip curled back over her teeth. I shot her one pleading glance. Then we were racing across the blacktop so fast that my stomach got lost somewhere behind me. “Hold on,” Jacob shouted. I hid my face in his back as he sped down the highway. I knew he would slow down when we hit the Quileute border. I just had to hold on till then. I prayed silently and fervently that Alice wouldn’t follow, and that Charlie wouldn’t happen to see me. . . . It was obvious when we had reached the safe zone. The bike slowed, and Jacob straightened up and howled with laughter. I opened my eyes. “We made it,” he shouted. “Not bad for a prison break, eh?” “Good thinking, Jake.” “I remembered what you said about the psychic leech not being about to predict what I’m going to do. I’m glad you didn’t think of this — she wouldn’t have let you go to school.” “That’s why I didn’t consider it.” He laughed triumphantly. “What do you want to do today?” “Anything!” I laughed back. It felt great to be free. 8. TEMPER WE ENDED UP ON THE BEACH AGAIN, WANDERING AIMlessly. Jacob was still full of himself for engineering my escape. “Do you think they’ll come looking for you?” he asked, sounding hopeful. “No.” I was certain about that. “They’re going to be furious with me tonight, though.” He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. “Don’t go back, then,” he suggested again. “Charlie would love that,” I said sarcastically. “I bet he wouldn’t mind.” I didn’t answer. Jacob was probably right, and that made me grind my teeth together. Charlie’s blatant preference for my Quileute friends was so unfair. I wondered if he would feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves. “So what’s the latest pack scandal?” I asked lightly. Jacob skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes. “What? That was a joke.” “Oh.” He looked away. I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought. “Is there a scandal?” I wondered. Jacob chuckled once. “I forget what it’s like, not having everyone know everything all the time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head.” We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes. “So what is it?” I finally asked. “That everyone in your head already knows?” He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren’t sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he sighed and said, “Quil imprinted. That’s three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. Maybe it’s more common than the stories say. . . .” He frowned, and then turned to stare at me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “What are you staring at?” I asked, feeling self-conscious. He sighed. “Nothing.” Jacob started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my hand. We paced silently across the rocks. I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach — like a couple, certainly — and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with Jacob. . . . No reason to get worked up about it now. “Why is Quil’s imprinting such a scandal?” I asked when it didn’t look like he was going to go on. “Is it because he’s the newest one?” “That doesn’t have anything to do with it.” “Then what’s the problem?” “It’s another one of those legend things. I wonder when we’re going to stop being surprised that they’re all true?” he muttered to himself. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?” “You’d never get it right. See, Quil hasn’t been hanging out with us, you know, until just recently. So he hadn’t been around Emily’s place much.” “Quil imprinted on Emily, too?” I gasped. “No! I told you not to guess. Emily had her two nieces down for a visit . . . and Quil met Claire.” He didn’t continue. I thought about that for a moment. “Emily doesn’t want her niece with a werewolf? That’s a little hypocritical,” I said. But I could understand why she of all people might feel that way. I thought again of the long scars that marred her face and extended all the way down her right arm. Sam had lost control just once when he was standing too close to her. Once was all it took. . . . I’d seen the pain in Sam’s eyes when he looked at what he’d done to Emily. I could understand why Emily might want to protect her niece from that. “Would you please stop guessing? You’re way off. Emily doesn’t mind that part, it’s just, well, a little early.” “What do you mean early?” Jacob appraised me with narrowed eyes. “Try not to be judgmental, okay?” I nodded cautiously. “Claire is two,” Jacob told me. Rain started to fall. I blinked furiously as the drops pelted my face. Jacob waited in silence. He wore no jacket, as usual; the rain left a spatter of dark spots on his black T- shirt, and dripped through his shaggy hair. His face was expressionless as he watched mine. “Quil . . . imprinted . . . with a two-year-old?” I was finally able to ask. “It happens.” Jacob shrugged. He bent to grab another rock and sent it flying out into the bay. “Or so the stories say.” “But she’s a baby,” I protested. He looked at me with dark amusement. “Quil’s not getting any older,” he reminded me, a bit of acid in his tone. “He’ll just have to be patient for a few decades.” “I . . . don’t know what to say.” I was trying my hardest not to be critical, but, in truth, I was horrified. Until now, nothing about the werewolves had bothered me since the day I’d found out they weren’t committing the murders I’d suspected them of. “You’re making judgments,” he accused. “I can see it on your face.” “Sorry,” I muttered. “But it sounds really creepy.” “It’s not like that; you’ve got it all wrong,” Jacob defended his friend, suddenly vehement. “I’ve seen what it’s like, through his eyes. There’s nothing romantic about it at all, not for Quil, not now.” He took a deep breath, frustrated. “It’s so hard to describe. It’s not like love at first sight, really. It’s more like . . . gravity moves. When you see her, suddenly it’s not the earth holding you here anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her. And you would do anything for her, be anything for her. . . . You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that’s a protector, or a lover, or a friend, or a brother. “Quil will be the best, kindest big brother any kid ever had. There isn’t a toddler on the planet that will be more carefully looked after than that little girl will be. And then, when she’s older and needs a friend, he’ll be more understanding, trustworthy, and reliable than anyone else she knows. And then, when she’s grown up, they’ll be as happy as Emily and Sam.” A strange, bitter edge sharpened his tone at the very end, when he spoke of Sam. “Doesn’t Claire get a choice here?” “Of course. But why wouldn’t she choose him, in the end? He’ll be her perfect match. Like he was designed for her alone.” We walked in silence for a moment, till I paused to toss a rock toward the ocean. It fell to the beach several meters short. Jacob laughed at me. “We can’t all be freakishly strong,” I muttered. He sighed. “When do you think it will happen for you?” I asked quietly. His answer was flat and immediate. “Never.” “It’s not something you can control, is it?” He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all. “It’s not supposed to be,” he admitted. “But you have to see her — the one that’s supposedly meant for you.” “And you think that if you haven’t seen her yet, then she’s not out there?” I asked skeptically. “Jacob, you haven’t really seen much of the world — less than me, even.” “No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing eyes. “But I’ll never see anyone else, Bella. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or Embry. It drives them all crazy.” I dropped my eyes to the rocks. We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear the rain over their roar. “Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered. “No!” he protested, surprised by this conclusion. I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now. “You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.” I glared at him. “No offense intended,” he said quickly. “Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake . . .” He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.” I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking . . .” “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing. Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.” “I don’t know. . . .” “C’mon, Bella. Let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune.” “I really don’t think I’m allowed.” “By who? Charlie or the blood — or him?” “Both.” Jacob grinned my grin, and he was suddenly the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm. I couldn’t help grinning back. The rain softened, turned to mist. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “Except every one of your friends.” He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.” I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.” “Whatever you say.” We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and Jacob insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I’d wanted to spend the day with my friend. After we ate the sandwiches Jacob made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up the bikes. I hadn’t been here in months — since Edward had returned — but there was no sense of import to it. It was just another afternoon in the garage. “This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this place.” He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.” “To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can. He touched his can to mine. “Do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here — the last time when things were still . . . normal, I mean.” I laughed. “Of course I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s not something I’m likely to forget.” He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed. “It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.” I couldn’t agree with him. This was my happy era now. But I was surprised to realize how many things I missed from my own personal dark ages. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had picked up again, but it was warm in the little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace.
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