Chapter 1
The day that Esme died, the whole family was out hunting. She hadn't fed in a while, but she felt that she would only hinder the rest of them if she did—she just didn't feel up to hunting. Carlisle fretted a bit before they left.
"If you're sure you don't want to come with us, I'll being some blood back. There's something wrong with the way your eyes are still gold."
Esme had laughed. "I'm fine, Carlisle. Take care of yourself first—you look ravished. I'll be fine."
With a slight frown, he had kissed her cold forehead goodbye.
The spasms came a little after she had drawn her bubble bath. Of course there was no reason for a vampire to bathe, but she just felt so…cold. Whether she knew it or not, Esme had drawn a bath close to 190 degrees Fahrenheit. She started to shiver, though. Why wasn't it warm enough? Her shivers built up soon into whole body spams, sending soapy water all over the floor. She got out of the shower, barely managed to cover a towel over her freezing body, and went into the kitchen.
When Rosalie found her, she was white. Her hair and fingernails had crumbled to dust, and her entire body seemed to be made of snow. Her eyes were caved in, and bones peeked out of some of the mounds of dust that used to be her surrogate mother.
The family seemed to materialize right then and there. There were no words—a deadly silence hung in the air, suspended like the dust of the essense of Esme floating above her.
At last, Carlisle walked over and hunched over his dead wife. He grieved silently for a bit, his back to the rest of his family, then stood up.
"Esme's gone."