Sam stares, and yes. The edges of Taylor are there. A few years or five, a ton of muscle and scars, and like a pup with paws too big, he'd grow into it all.

We could have been friends, if we'd met back then. It wouldn't have been so bad. Teeth worry his lower lip before he glances back at the real thing.

"We all kind of look that way at some point, you realize."