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else on the island. Or maybe she just let it go out to sea so it would look like she was off the island," I spit-balled. "There's no way to know that she's definitely not here somewhere."
"Here. Let me see that," Tiffany said, snatching away the frame. She went over to her father, who was standing near the wall watching Tiff's little sister play with some new handheld video game. Her dad checked out the photo, then nodded.
"He says he'll try to clean it up later on the computer, and he'll see if he can get the figure in focus," Tiffany said, returning to us and handing the frame back to me. "If someone is watching us, hopefully we'll figure it out."
"And that's it! We're done!" Mrs. Lange announced, lifting her perpetually full mimosa glass. "Merry Christmas, everyone."
I stared down at the blurry figure, my heart choking my throat. Merry Christmas, indeed.
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CHAPTER 29 AN APOLOGY
Once the gift-opening ceremony was through, the room descended into happy, relaxed chatter. I stashed the photo underneath my pile of gifts and got up to talk to Upton. But before I could make a move, Sawyer appeared, out of nowhere, at my elbow.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked.
My eyes darted to Noelle, who eyed us curiously. "Um, sure."
Sawyer led me across the great room and into the dining room, where all our dishes already had been cleared away and the table had been wiped to a shine. He walked over to the back wall and looked out the window at the ocean. I stayed on the far side of the table, hesitant.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he told the window, his arms crossed over the starched white shirt his father probably had forced him to w
ear. "About last night."
"Oh," I said, my hand on the back of Mrs. Lange's chair. "That's okay."
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"I'm sure you've heard. About my sister," he said, glancing briefly over his shoulder at me. "Of course, in this group, you've heard."
'Yeah," I said, feeling guilty, even though I'd done nothing wrong.
"This is my first Christmas without her," he told me. "I think I'm having a hard time."
God. Of course he was having a hard time. Why hadn't that occurred to me before? I walked around the table and joined him at the window.
"It's okay. I understand," I said.
He looked over at me. In the sunlight, I could see that his eyes were actually gray and flecked with brown. Very unusual and beyond beautiful. Sawyer was really handsome. I suddenly recalled how I had mistaken him for Upton that first day, and wondered why the girls refused to take him seriously as a potential hookup. Maybe he was brooding, but brooding was attractive. Or was that just me?
"Anyway, here. This is for you," he said, pulling something out of his pocket. "Thanks for including me. Or trying to."
He held out a tiny white shell on a black cord. A necklace. Clearly one he'd made himself. "You didn't have to do this," I said, touched nonetheless.
"Just take it," he said shortly.
I blushed. "I didn't mean to--"
He glanced past me. Upton had just walked into the room.
I slipped the shell into the pocket of my skirt, then wondered why I'd felt the need to do that.
"I should go," Sawyer said.
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