Winter storms made Evangeline morbidly nostalgic. She'd spent time that day taking stock of what they had on hand in the house just in case--one only needed to experience a week-long blizzard once in one's life to understand the necessity of having well-stocked stores--and had spent the rest of the day trying to stave off cabin fever.

The real trouble was that, with nothing to do but watch the snow fall outside, it was hard to keep her mind off other things. If she let herself, she'd start thinking about the last time she'd been trapped indoors by the snow, and that way only led to complicated feelings about something Eva knew, unequivocally, didn't merit it.

(She didn't feel guilty. There was nothing for her to feel guilty for. That, at least, had been Edward's one true gift to her.)

After most of a day spent staring out windows, Eva was feeling restless. She found herself moving from room to room, as if the view outside would magically change when she did. She'd finally decided to try to distract herself, and had headed down to the living room, where she remembered she'd left the book she was currently reading. Except when she opened the door to the room, someone was already in there. "Who are you?"

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