He meets my gaze, obviously preferring not to answer, but correctly assuming I won’t give up until I hear it from him, he says, “All you need to know is that she never repeated herself.” He sighs, face solemn and grave. “Probably because she enjoyed it too much, enjoyed thinking up inventive, new ways.” He winces. “And I suppose she didn’t want me to get suspicious. But listen, Ever, even though what you saw was unbelievably tragic, in the end, I loved you, and you loved me, and it was wonderful and glorious for as long as it lasted.”

I look away, determined to absorb it, to take it all in. But it’s a lot. Too much for right now, that’s for sure.

“So, will you show me someday?” I face him again.

Seeing the promise in his gaze when he looks at me and says, “Yes, but first give me some time to edit it, okay?”

I nod, seeing the way his shoulders droop, the way his jaw loosens, and knowing that that was pretty much as hard for him as it was for me.

“But for now, what do you say no more surprises? Why don’t we go somewhere happier—better—funner, if you will?”

I sit there for a moment, feeling so alone with my thoughts it’s as though he’s not there.

Soon roused by the sound of his voice at my ear, saying, “Hey look, they’re getting to the good part—what do you say we become them?”

My gaze switches to the screen, where a very different version of me smiles radiantly. My glossy, dark hair sparkling with a collection of pins and jewels made specifically to match my beautiful, hand-sewn, emerald green dress. Seeing the way I hold myself with such confidence—so sure of my beauty, my privilege, my right to dream all I want, to obtain all I want, to claim anyone I want—including this dark, handsome stranger I’ve only just met.