"Miss Starr, the car I had for you has broken down," Mrs. Oliver called out to Emily as Emily wrapped her coat around herself and shivered. "I don't know what we shall do--oh, Mr. Kent--you will? Miss Starr! Mr. Kent said he'd be glad to take you--be careful though, it does look as if a storm is brewing,"

Emily was instantly reminded of the storm in Shrewsbury all those years ago, a storm that had forced her, Ilse, Teddy and Perry to seek shelter in the Old John house. There, Emily remembered Teddy's glance. But then, the event almost cost Emily her reputation and months of agony until Aunt Ruth stood by her and cleared up the mess. Emily would be forever grateful to her aunt for this. Although she often did not agree with Aunt Ruth, there was something to be said for family loyalty. However, that loyalty seemed stressed as Aunt Ruth recently kicked up a ruckus when she heard of Emily and Dean's engagement, calling Dean an infidel.

Teddy led Emily out to his car.

"Thank you," she told him as he got into his side.

"Anything for an old schoolmate," Teddy's voice showed bitterness.

Emily said nothing further. She was furious at him; she only told Mrs. Oliver that because from his side, it was true! He did not write her, he never contacted her after the Flavian incident, and he didn't even mention the life-changing decision that was affecting her life. He had disappointed her so many times the summer before last. When she had waited for him near Lofty John's Bush, hadn't he had the gall to go to Ilse instead? So many times, he had broken his promises!

As they neared a bridge, Emily's anger finally hit a juncture. "Let me out," she said with gritted teeth.

Teddy answered in kind, "Don't be ridiculous, Miss Starr, it's snowing hard outside,"

Emily pushed open the door and stalked out. Teddy pulled the car over, and slammed the door, following her.

"Emily, I'm sorry---"

"You're sorry?" Emily whirled around and confronted him. " When you came back the first time after we made that pledge about Vega of the Lyre, you made me think you'd forgotten everything...it was such a soulless, chilly, polite goodbye! You ceased to write me yet you kept on writing to Ilse and Perry! You didn't even care to write even after you found out about Dean and me! A friend would have at least written! You treated me as if our childhood friendship never existed! You didn't even ask me now about Dean and me!"

But Teddy's anger sparked as well. "I'd forgotten? How could I have forgotten! It was you who did! You don't remember Aylmer Vincent? I thought it was no use to write you, especially after you told me about how night air was bad for you and such. And that winter you were ill--I was nearly wild," the confession swept the air. "... away there in France where I couldn't see you. And how Dean was always with you, and I knew he was possessive, Emily, he always wanted you...and then I heard about your engagement---do you know how much it hurt, Emily? That I couldn't hear it from you? But from other people?"

"From me? You were in France, how could I have told you? And I didn't think you'd be interested, Teddy, since you didn't even write...or answer some of my letters,"

"I admit," Teddy said. "I was wrong."

"There now," Emily said stupidly.

"But you are wrong too, Emily," Teddy reached out and grabbed her hand. "I've looked for months for a story of yours ever since that last winter. All the magazines you publish in. Why, I even wrote a letter to the publisher, asking why he didn't publish them...and it turns out you haven't written anything! I remember, you would spent nights and nights burning your candle to write poems and journal entries in those Jimmy-books of yours'"

"But I---"

"Maybe you didn't see it but I did...Dean has always hated your writing, your friends, your family because he thought they would take you away from him! Especially me, who he thought was a rival. Ilse told me that you burned that book of yours'...you never told her why. But I know you well enough to know that after Mr. Carpenter, Dean's opinion of your writing meant more to you than anything else in the world. And when he ruined your dreams, you let him! But don't you care anything about Mr. Carpenter perhaps? Don't you think he'd be disappointed...let him down that after years of showing him your writings, you'd given up! You have talent, Emily, you always have!"

"Perhaps," Emily replied frostily. "the artistic soul of yours' is getting a little too carried away,"

"You know, it's the truth, Emily," Teddy's eyes gazed into her's, and she saw the friend and sweetheart she had once lost. "If it's not, prove to me, you can still write--"

"Teddy...you know I can't, not anymore, it died a long time ago,"

"No, it's there. Just as Dean accused me so long ago one day, that I can't help putting something of you in my pictures, you can't help writing,"

"He told you that?" Emily's voice was a whisper. Long ago, Dean told her what Teddy was doing and had added in a sneer 'Tell him to keep his paint and brush off my property.' She was upset back then, but to think of Teddy's reaction...

"Yes. I know, you love him, so I shouldn't have said anything," Teddy's hands were shoved in his pockets and he stared moodily at the sky. Emily followed his gaze. Vega of the Lyre shown still brightly despite the snowflakes billowing to the ground.

"Let's," Emily said dazedly, trying to digest what he had told her. "Let's get back in the car,"

Teddy nodded, and with one last glance at Vega of the Lyre, got into the car and drove her back...