I’m oddly calm as I sit in a room full of people that I’m supposed to despise…
I sit at dinner with Jasper’s family, staring at my food. It looks good and smells good, too. But I can’t eat. Jasper has his left hand on my thigh and eats with his other. I take a sip of water.
“Are you not hungry, dear?” Jasper’s mother asked.
“No, ma’am. I’m sorry.” She gives me a warm smile. She takes my plate and puts it in the microwave.
“It’s okay. And if you get hungry later, it’ll be there for you.” She’s so kind. Like Alice. Maybe in thirty years, she’d look more like her. But I can’t imagine her perfect skin wrinkling, her clear eyes clouding. Jasper looks a lot like her, but with his father’s masculine chin. Jasper finishes his food and stretches back in his chair. He looks at me with soft ey
