Those who read my first Twilight story may be surprised that I decided to write a sequel. I originally had no intention of continuing the story, but I changed my mind a couple months later. That's a woman's prerogative, after all.

So here's what to expect from this shocking sequel:

The plotline is grand and epic in scale. Brace yourselves.

It's darker than the original fic. More pain and suffering, distress, and edgier overall. (But not without a happy ending.)

Carlisle's medical expertise comes into play significantly more.

Ambitious scenes most authors won't touch? Don't mind if I do.

Emotional closure – you thought the first story had it, but this one offers even more.

And most of all, the Volturi reprise their meddlesome role… but not for long.

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 1 – Second Opinion

Bella

Panic had erupted the day Edward detected no heartbeat pounding below my navel. The next several days blurred between a dozen family meetings, from one medical examination beneath Carlisle's pinched brow to another. At its apex, the range and intensity of emotions brewing within the house made my head spin.

Edward retreated into mute self-loathing, no doubt cursing what he considered foolish optimism in playing roulette. Carlisle spoke only marginally more than his son, and when he did, I found myself wishing he'd adopted Edward's vow of silence. His grim tone unnerved me more than his words, which were unpleasant enough to begin with. Yet I knew his prognosis long before he spoke it. I recalled with perfect clarity what he'd said the day we discovered I was pregnant with Miles:

"Several months ago… I stumbled upon something I'd never seen before. It was the only documented account of a human-vampire pregnancy. The story didn't have a happy ending. The child was too incompatible with the mother's physiology and she died within minutes of childbirth.

Without a more detailed account, though, I can't identify what went wrong or if it could have been avoided. But I do know the child was said to have had no pulse. He was like us."

I'd known for three years what the worst case scenario was. Why should I – or anyone else, for that matter – have an aneurysm over it now? Especially since Edward had patently agreed to change me in that worst case scenario? Besides that, everyone seemed to be ignoring what I thought was a fairly significant factor: the hapless woman in Carlisle's dusty medical volumes had lacked access to a physician as capable as he, much less to half a dozen other vampires who were no less attentive. If ever there was an ideal position to find oneself carrying a potentially lethal child, surely this was it.

And so I awaited Carlisle's judgment. Beneath the monitor on which the baby's sonogram image was suspended, Edward sat hunched next to the exam table, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at nothing. Whether from distraction or for dramatic effect, Carlisle left the machine running, its high-pitched hum gathering the room's tension and magnifying it a hundred times over.

On eye level with me from straddling his vinyl stool, he remained silent while returning the sonogram transponder to its clip. I refused to look anywhere but his face until he spoke, ensuring he sensed my determination to be told everything, my firm refusal to be patronized or spared any detail.

"Bella…" he began, unwillingly meeting my eyes, "I get the feeling you already know much of what to expect, at least in terms of the… end result. Edward has likely briefed you on that," he swallowed uncomfortably. "My job is to prepare you for everything leading up to that point."

My focus was suddenly interrupted by the touch of ice against my hand. Though his gaze remained averted from mine, Edward had enclosed my fragile hand in his, a quiet yet moving gesture of solidarity. I sensed it wasn't without effort that he pulled himself out of his self-imposed prison to connect with me.

"When I first told you about the other woman, I deliberately left out the details of her case. There was no reason to alarm you at the time," Carlisle sighed heavily. "But you deserve to be fully informed now. No patient of mine receives less than full disclosure of their condition… even when that patient lives under my roof and is pregnant with my third grandchild."

Edward's hand flinched involuntarily. The movement triggered a realization, startling in its clarity and stunning that I hadn't noticed it before. What woman finds herself in the obstetric care of her own father-in-law, whose duty it is not only to treat her thoroughly and professionally, but also contend with his son's tormented conscience? Who else's prenatal appointments involve discussing the life-threatening result of sexual relations with their doctor's own son? Perhaps I'd judged Edward's discomfort unfairly.

The sound of a clipboard sliding across Carlisle's desk halted my thoughts; I turned to see him holding a thick pile of hand-written notes clasped together. Flipping several pages over, he exhaled once more. "I'll start with the basics. You remember that Miles and Ivy gestated slightly ahead of schedule – eight months instead of nine?" I nodded. "Well, everything I've observed indicates this baby will be born in just four months."

Blinking, I reflexively looked down at my abdomen. If I was honest with myself, it was already swelling, an observation I'd tried to dismiss as bloating. Carlisle's assessment meant it was time to move past the denial and rotate my maternity wardrobe to the top drawer of my dresser again.

"This seems to correspond with the other woman's record. Though it was written in Italian, it translates to 'half the time of confinement.' I believe the acceleration is meant to curtail the demands on the mother's system," he turned to the next page, forehead tightening as he did so. "But while the pregnancy is shortened, it's also intensified. Everything you experienced before will feel twice as acute this time. Your daily caloric intake also needs to double. I've given Esme a protein and vitamin-rich menu to work from; she and Alice will prepare your meals and ensure you eat enough."

Aside from the idea of Alice spoon-feeding me like an infant, nothing Carlisle had said was overly troubling. Yet the impulse to rejoice was cut short when he dropped the clipboard onto his lap. Whatever followed would be unscripted, and from the look in his eyes, that signaled the end of the good news and the beginning of the bad. Edward sensed it as well, elevating his gaze cautiously to peer across my prostrate form.

"Even with the best nutrition, Bella, the strain on your body will be severe. The baby will route all available resources to itself – including those already in your system." He paused, obviously on the verge of divulging the worst of it. "Within two months, you'll most likely be anemic. The calcium in your bones will have diminished to the point of early-stage osteoporosis, and your blood oxygen will be diluted. Overall, your energy levels will plummet, resulting in a state of weakness that can be best described as… semi-catatonic."

His words finally managed to cut through my arrogance. Catatonic was how I'd describe my response to James' attack five years ago. The nauseating disorientation, endlessly drifting in and out of consciousness and distorted dreams, finding myself just this side of total disembodiment… I shivered at the prospect of reliving that, especially for weeks or months on end. At such a critical point in my life, reality wasn't something I relished losing my grasp on.

Desperate to speak before anything else came out of Carlisle's mouth, I sat up anxiously. "Can't you just give me extra vitamins? You can even use an IV if that makes it easier."

He shook his head sadly. "Your kidneys can only handle so much, Bella. Trust me, I'll be giving you the highest allowable dosages of iron and calcium, but even that won't be enough. Anything more will put you at serious risk of renal failure."

Instinct urged me to argue, to press him into admitting he knew of some magical solution. Yet never had I known Carlisle to arbitrarily withhold anything, to offer a fraction less than his verified best. No matter how grim my outlook, he deserved to be taken at his word and trusted implicitly. His job would be difficult enough without hysteria or irrational denial on my part; the least I could do was remain as calm and brave as possible, even if that meant ignoring the sirens blaring in my head.

"There is one thing that will help tremendously, maybe even more than the supplements. Do you know what that is?" he asked while shutting the ultrasound machine off.

I shook my head, eager for his answer, to learn what secret elixir he'd just thought of.

A faint smile appeared on Carlisle's mouth. "Don't feel guilty," he stated. "Everyone in the house knows what to expect, and none of us think of you as an imposition. Please accept our care graciously. A positive state of mind will do wonders for everyone, most of all you." He stepped over to the counter, returning with a glass of water in one hand and a tiny cup holding two pills in the other.

"Here's your first dose. Be sure to drink all the water," he emphasized. "You'll take another set tonight. Twice a day will be the routine." Glancing briefly at Edward, who seemed to be staring into another dimension, he nodded once and exited the room.

As soon as his shadow vanished down the hall, I fixed Edward with a no-nonsense stare. Left to his own devices, his self-deprecation would only fester until he lost the ability to communicate altogether. Immediate action was required if I hoped to staunch the downward spiral before it gained too much momentum.

"Edward, look at me."

His eyes flickered in a restless quest to scan every square inch of my body except for the region above my neck. "I am looking at you," he mumbled, though obviously no more convinced than I was.

"Look in my eyes."

I was willing to wait hours if need be. Not only had we come too far to regress in our maturity, but this situation deserved – demanded – courage and tenacious presence of mind unlike any yet required of us. This was the final purge of whatever selfish remnants lingered in our hearts, the pinnacle of all challenges merged into one. Yes, I would wait hours if Edward needed that long to embrace our brave new reality.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. Whether he'd sensed my firm commitment or summoned his own, I watched his amber eyes cautiously pivot upward until they locked onto me with heartbreaking depth.

"I know what you're thinking," I said quietly. "But you need to remember that we both chose this. I knew the risks as well as you. So please, please don't blame yourself," I squeezed his hand as tightly as I could.

"That's easy for you to say now. Just wait another month or two, when you're too weak to sit upright," he winced.

I breathed deeply before replying. "I'm not going to delude myself into thinking it will be easy. But there are several things that will make it easier than it would be otherwise."

"Like what?"

"Knowing what the finish line holds – that what I'm going through is worth it," smiling wanly, I guided his hand to rest on my stomach. "Then there's the fact that I've always been comfortable being alone in my own mind, daydreaming most of the time away. If I develop a mental catalog of thoughts and images to get me through, it should make it better, or at least tolerable."

Still appearing dubious, Edward watched me shift into a full sitting position. "Even if that doesn't work, I'll have eternity with you to look forward to. You of all people should know how valuable that is to me." Framing his face with my hands, my fingers locked around his rigid, square jaw line. "And if I know you're as happy about this baby as I am, that will do more for my mind, body and soul than Carlisle's best medicine. I need you to trust in that."

He dropped his eyes, but from thoughtfulness rather than shame. At least he was contemplating my words instead of summarily dismissing them as he would have in the past. Part of me wanted to take full credit, to congratulate myself on slicing through his defenses with my brilliant, compelling little speech. Yet I knew the credit was his alone. No one could impose such a character transformation on another; change is always instigated from within, and I simply had the honor of witnessing its finest moment in Carlisle's small office. The moment was sealed when Edward pressed his hand into mine, sparking a transfusion of warmth that belied his cold palm.

"We'll get through this together," I whispered, a single tear stinging my left eye. "There's no other way. I wouldn't want there to be."

His nod was subtle yet comforting. "Take your pills," he whispered back, glancing at the pair of cups balanced on Carlisle's stool. "Then I'll promise to be brave."