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I was in the house much too much, and much too alone. Without Jacob, and my adrenaline and my distractions, everything I’d been repressing started creeping up on me. The dreams got hard again. I could no longer see the end coming. Just the horrible nothingness—half the time in the forest, half the time in the empty fern sea where the white house no longer existed. Sometimes Sam Uley was there in the forest, watching me again. I paid him no attention—there was no comfort in his presence; it made me feel no less alone. It didn’t stop me from screaming myself awake, night after night. The
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