Angela's POV
Gregory knocked and let himself in.
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.
"You're… Angela?" he said.
He seemed to feel immediately stupid for saying it. Of course, it was me. He'd known me for years. But for some reason, I must’ve looked different.
I'd lost weight. Obviously. The kind that happened when a body went through something serious and kept going anyway. It made my lines sharper. The dress hanging differently than it would’ve a week ago. The mask framing my eyes in a way that turned what should have been fragility into something that looked like a warning.
I looked at him patiently, waiting for him to finish processing.
"It's me," I said. "Shall we go?"
Rosalie, standing nearby, pressed her lips together. I could tell she was trying not to laugh at Gregory.
So
