Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
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Charlie's fist came down on the table. "That's it, Bella! I'm sending you home."
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I looked up from my cereal, which I was pondering rather than eating, and stared at Charlie in shock. I hadn't been following the conversation -- actually, I hadn't been aware that we were having a conversation -- and I wasn't sure what he meant.
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第四章: 苏醒 Walking Uptime Passes
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