"You hold our flight up for comparison, and almost anything's got to be better."

Two, six, eight months: it'd take longer than that to erase her memories of the flight. She remembers walking onto the plane, her wrists in handcuffs and Edward breathing down her back. She remembers having to duck down to drink her juice because her cuffed wrists didn't allow her much arm movement. She remembers struggling desperately to reach another oxygen mask for herself after she put one over Edward's face.

"Don't let it go to your head that I think you'll be better company than Edward was."

She reaches toward the computer screen again, fingers hovering above it.

"How about that pie?"