Chapter 1:PARTY
I WAS NINETY-NINE POINT NINE PERCENT SURE I WAS dreaming.
The reasons I was so certain were that, first, I was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight–the
kind of blinding clear sun that never shone on my drizzly new hometown in Forks,
Washington–and second, I was looking at my Grandma Marie. Gran had been dead for six
years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory.
Gran hadn't changed much; her face looked just the same as I remembered it. The skin was
soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath.
Like a dried apricot,...
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