“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, my voice weak as the loss of him surrounded me, the memory of that love we’d felt echoing in all the empty places of my soul and making them ache with longing. The ruby necklace I wore seemed to heat at her words too, the echo of his hand slipping through my hair, a memory that was somehow tangible like his ghost was leaning in to listen. “Because that fire hasn’t gone out yet,” Rosalie breathed, taking a lock of my ebony hair and winding it around her finger until it pulled tight, like she’d known I’d imagined his touch there too. “I feel a chord of
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Awww rose
