My heart lurched. That damned face. The same face that, against all my fury and bitter rage, I still dreamt of. How could life have been so cruel as to show him to me, tease me with even the slightest possibility of a future, and then spit in my face with a cold and brutal reminder? He and I were not the same. Not an epic, sweeping tale. Not one of the romantic stories Gabby so loved, but enemies. One born from light, the other crafted from darkness.
