![]() ![]() Apparently, she hadn't been expecting to see me, either. Our mouths-hers a wizened pucker-spread into the same surprised half-smile at just the same time. Like a dried apricot, but with a puff of thick white hair standing out in a cloud around it. The skin was soft and withered, bent into a thousand tiny creases that clung gently to the bone underneath. Gran hadn't changed much her face looked just the same as I remembered it. ![]() Gran had been dead for six years now, so that was solid evidence toward the dream theory. 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. I WAS NINETY-NINE POINT NINE PERCENT SURE I WAS dreaming. ![]()
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