Scarlett’s POV“So,” I said, leaning forward on Enzo’s bed, frowning at the television, “he’s an alien?”“Yeah.” Enzo rubbed my knee, but his gaze didn’t once falter from the screen. “From the planet Gallifrey. And he travels around in a blue box that he stole…”“No, go on.” My lips twitched. “And the plastic?”“Is alive.” He grinned and, at last, turned to face me. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to watch it.”“No, I’m enjoying it. I’m confused, but happy.”“Well, that’s all I can ask.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m glad you’re happy.”“Me, too. Your parents are so nice.”They really were. We’d chatted easily, amicably, once I’d settled into myself – and got past the fact that Enzo had snickered at me for saying ‘Most welcome.’ Geno and Resme were warm people in a warm home, and with the mulled wine sinking into my flesh I’d found that our conversations had flowed as easily as drink into my cup.And, if I’d caught them sharing sad, almost pitying, looks whenever my past came up, no matter how q
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