Edward
Connor turned to me, serious for half a second. Then he grinned. "Two things," he said. "One: compliment her hair. She gets it done every two weeks and swears blind it's her natural colour. Two: McKenzies are loud. We're funny. We talk over each other and we feed people until they cry. Just go with it, aye?"
I nodded. "Okay." Finding it cute that Connor had already picked up a slight Scottish accent without noticing.
The passenger door opened before I could move. Connor was already around the car, hand out like I might bolt. "Come on," he said softly. "She's been waiting."
I let him pull me out. The gravel crunched under my rain boots and the cold air hit me immediately. Smelled like grass, and baking, and woodsmoke.
The blue door opened and there she was.
Isla McKenzie.
