Prologue: All That I've Got

I took my time packing the rest of my things in the huge box in front of me, scowling at the burly movers that approached. They swerved off for another box as soon as they saw my face. I had to admit, I was a wreck. I'd cried myself to sleep last night and didn't really bother to fix myself, until my mother demanded for me to take a shower. Not that it helped or anything. Honestly, it didn't. I basically just stood underneath the running water for fifteen minutes and walked back out again. I didn't care. It was all so trivial compared to this.

I reluctantly closed the box, glancing around my tiny bedroom, hoping ridiculously for a dust bunny to appear. I'd take the time to pack that, too. Everything was precious. I sighed and plopped myself moodily onto the box, procrastinating. I shied from change. I loved California—the sun, my friends, my school—because it was familiar. The same; and now that we were getting kicked out of our apartment…

I picked at the cardboard, frowning at it, and then looked up at the blank white ceiling with another gusty sigh. I loved my mother, not only because she was the woman who raised me, but because she was so innately loveable. She'd gotten pregnant at sixteen and was absurdly protective of me. What did she have to be protective about? I've never had a boyfriend. I've never even kissed a boy. And they certainly have never shown an interest in me. I shook my head in irritation, hopping off the box and proceeding to kick it towards the hallway. It was wonderful, being able to vent off my feelings on an inanimate object.

"Lincoln City shouldn't be so bad," I told myself on a lighter note. My voice sounded small, echoing off the smooth, white walls.

We would be starting over with my aunt, who would make sure that my mother found a stable job, even if she had to keelhaul her sister. I smiled at the thought, which quickly soured as I watched my mother enthusiastically pile in boxes to the movers. She stood in the living room, looking like an air traffic controller, pointing the movers towards the stairs with a pencil and clutching a clipboard to her side. I gave the box a last vicious kick, sending it skidding into the middle of the kitchen floor. My mother beamed as she spotted me, reaching down to heft up the box as I leaned against the wall beside the sink.

"That's the spirit, honey," she encouraged, excitement sparking from her vividly blue eyes.

I felt a pang of shame, but I shoved that right back in the closet along with my good humor. I knew I'd worried her with my crying and moping, but I'd been too self-centered to stop.

"Sure, mom. Really…lovely." I tried for a smile. The attempt must have looked pretty pitiful, since my mother just sighed.

"Kitty," I said sternly. It always hurt when she hurt. I wished I wasn't so empathetic.

"Ducky," she returned, suppressing a smile, warming to our inside banter.

My mother was so young on so many levels, not including her age. Kitty was what she preferred to go by, rather than Katherine. She, however, claimed that 'Ducky' was one step from Adele; nobody else called me that. My official, sometime-pet name was Del, thus named by my far more sensible aunt, the aforesaid Irene.

"I never agreed to that," I muttered.

"Never disagreed either, sweets." She glanced up from the box to take a last, wistful look at the apartment. I felt a small surge of hope well up inside of me. It was illogical, I knew that, but Kitty Hart was stubborn; maybe she could be stubborn enough to fight back for the apartment.

The bubble popped when she turned towards the door and walked out, calling behind, "Adele, could you please leave the keys on the doorknob when you walk out?"

I wondered if I would ever walk out. The silence my mother left behind her was almost palpable in the air. It was as if the very inside of the room was holding its breath, strained. I glared at the innocent keys that rested on the kitchen counter. They suddenly looked positively despicable. No, I wasn't going to touch them. I pushed away from the wall and turned to take another tour of the rooms, when I heard a yell from below, followed by a loud clattering on the floor…or the stairs…

I hesitated at the door to my room, and then glanced from the keys to the door. I felt like a mother abandoning her child; I really did love this apartment. It meant so much to me; so much more than I could ever expect to explain coherently. These walls were the witness to countless joys, sorrows, anger, laughter, betrayal—if they were allowed to speak in this universe, I'd sit on the floor, listening to the greatest bard that ever spoke. And the last thing that it would ever speak of about us is probably pain.

Cursing myself inwardly, I stalked across the apartment and grabbed the keys, pausing at the doorknob to have a last look at the kitchen and adjoining living room. My eyes feasted hungrily on the walls and floor before me.

"Goodbye," I murmured, turning away, hanging the key ring on the knob as I shut the door. I shook my head from side to side as I walked down the stairs, hearing my mother shout that it was okay, never mind it.

An unexpected old resentment surged up again inside me, and I realized with bitter amusement why I'd never had a boyfriend. Men always seemed to run out on the people they were with.

Maybe there was something good about leaving the apartment after all. That was certainly one memory I wanted behind my mother and me.

"Alice. Alice. ALICE!" Bella came over and shook her vigorously, upon seeing her diminutive sister zone out, sitting on the couch fixed with a dazed expression. She watched anxiously as Alice slowly came out of her trance. Her topaz eyes were suspiciously innocent.

"Bella," she began slowly, "you've got nothing to be worried about."

She wasn't buying it. 'Okay, talk. Now, since we're not going to be saying anything out loud.' She had found her new powers rather useful, especially when it ensured perfect privacy—save for when Edward was around.

With a sigh, Alice began. 'We're lucky that Edward's hunting, or he'd probably go berserk.'

'Definitely,' Bella nodded, impatient for her to continue. 'Is it really that bad?'

Alice hesitated, and rushed on quickly. 'Really, I'm sure it's absolutely nothing. They could be just doing a routine check-up or something like that. After all, we haven't done anything wrong. Or Aro could just want tidings from—"

Bella stared at Alice in a mixture of horror and confusion. To her knowledge, the Volturi never did anything without a valid reason. 'We have to tell Carlisle,' she said flatly.

'Yes. Of course, but Bella, what do you think they want?'

Bella paused, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment. She wasn't entirely sure what they could possibly want, aside from wanting to recruit the Cullen family into their coven. She hoped that that reason wasn't it.

'We'll see.'