Chapter 13. KILLER
IF IT WAS ANYONE BUT JACOB, I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, shaking my head as I drove down the forest-lined highway to La Push.
I still wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing, but I'd made a compromise with myself.
I couldn't condone what Jacob and his friends, his pack, were doing. I understood now what he'd alisema last night—that I might not want to see him again—and I could have called him as he'd suggested, but that felt cowardly. I owed him a face-to-face conversation, at least. I would tell him to his face that I couldn't just overlook what was going on. I couldn't be friends...
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