she been up to in the past six years? Was Pop okay, and had they found each other, wherever they
were?—but she opened her mouth when I did, so I stopped to let her go first. She paused, too, and then
we Goth smiled at the little awkwardness.
"Bella!"
It wasn't Gran who called my name, and we both turned to see the addition to our small reunion. I didn't
have to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhere—know, and respond to,
whether I was awake or asleep… or even dead, I'd bet. The voice I'd walk through fire for—or, less
dramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for.
Edward.
Even though I was always thrilled to see him—conscious or otherwise—and even though I was almost
positive that I was dreaming, I panicked as Edward walked toward us through the glaring sunlight.
I panicked because Gran didn't know that I was in love with a vampire—nobody knew that—so how
was I supposed to explain the fact that the brilliant sunbeams were shattering off his skin into a thousand
rainbow shards like he was made of crystal or diamond?
Well, Gran, yon might have noticed that my boyfriend glitters. It's just something he does in the
sun. Don't worry about it…
What was he doing? The whole reason he lived in Forks, the rainiest place in the world, was so that he
could be outside in the daytime without exposing his family's secret. Yet here he was, strolling gracefully
toward me—with the most beautiful smile on his angel's face—as if I were the only one here.
In that second, I wished that I was not the one exception to his mysterious talent; I usually felt grateful
that I was the only person whose thoughts he couldn't hear just as clearly as if they were spoken aloud.
But now I wished he could hear me, too, so that he could hear the warning I was screaming in my head.
I shot a panicked glance back at Gran, and saw that it was too late. She was just turning to stare back at
me, her eyes as alarmed as mine.
Edward—still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my
chest—put his arm around my shoulder and turned to face my grandmother.
Gran's expression surprised me. Instead of looking horrified, she was staring at me sheepishly, as if
waiting for a scolding. And she was standing in such a strange position—one arm held awkwardly away
from her body, stretched out and then curled around the air. Like she had her arm around someone I
couldn't see, someone invisible…
Only then, as I looked at the bigger picture, did I notice the huge gilt frame that enclosed my
grandmother's form. Uncomprehending, I raised the hand that wasn't wrapped around Edward's waist
and reached out to touch her. She mimicked the movement exactly, mirrored it. But where our fingers
should have met, there was nothing but cold glass…
With a dizzying jolt, my dream abruptly became a nightmare.
There was no Gran.
That was me. Me in a mirror. Me—ancient, creased, and withered.
Edward stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen.
