This a new story that I've been working on. It started out as a one-shot but it's turned into so much more. I'm very unhappy how my other story, Tears of Joy, has turned out so the plan was to just make then into a one-shot but then this happened. I'm going to be working TOJ into this new story but first I wanted to give a little back story. It's a completely different story at this point but I'm much happier with it.

Please review! I've already started the next section to this so stay tuned for more. Reviews help keep me motivated!-Michelle

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight but I wish I did

Preface:

It was on December 22nd that my life changed forever. Maybe for the better but I was having troubles seeing it that way at the moment. Before, I didn't have a warm place to sleep and not nearly enough food to eat but at least I was happy, at least I had my best friend in the world. She may have been my only friend and the only person I was remotely close to but even if I had known a thousand people she would still be the best; her smile, her musical laugh, and the way she knew how to say just the right things to make our troubles seem unimportant made her my angel. The accident concreted that.

Chapter one:

A knock at the door of the Arizona home I lived at with my mother brought my thoughts back to the present moment. I had been huddled under a pile of blankets trying to keep warm and I had drifted into a state of mindlessness; the heat had been shut off after the second notice from the electric company telling us to pay or suffer the consequences; normally in Arizona that was no big deal but tonight the temperature had dropped down to 26 degrees Fahrenheit and I was feeling it.

I cautiously opened the door since no one ever comes to our house except me and my mom. I thought maybe it might be her; she had been gone for almost two weeks this time "working" and it was possible that she had lost her house key again.

An officer was behind the door; once I opened it he took off his hat and asked in a solemn tone, "Ma'am, are you Isabella Swan?"

"Yes," I answered with a shaky voice. I had to be careful of what I said; mom told me to never tell anything to the police and I should deny knowing anything because talking could get her in trouble.

"Ms. Swan I do regret to inform you that your mother, Renee Swan, has passed away." The officer was looking at me with pity.

"What?" was all I could manage to say. What he had said couldn't be true; there must be some mistake or maybe this was just a dream. I was waiting for him to say that he had the wrong person and for my mom to show up and prove him wrong.

"She was found a few hours ago in a hotel room and at this time the cause of death is looking to be an accidental overdose. Your uncle, Charlie Swan, has been contacted and he's requested that you come live with him until you're 18. I'm going to be taking you back with me to the station and we're going to help you figure out what's going on."

"Okay," was all I said. I didn't know what else to say. There was nothing I could do but go with him and figure out what I was going to do next.

"Do you have any stuff you want to grab? Maybe a purse and a jacket?" the officer kindly suggested.

"No, I don't have anything," I responded solemnly. I didn't have a purse and I didn't have much else either. Normally it didn't bug me but when I saw the look of pity the officer gave me it made me self-conscious; usually I focused on the things I do have, like a mother who loves me, but it's hard not to feel bad for myself when people point out to me how poor we are. At school I don't have any friends but people weren't afraid to talk to me; they like to point out that my clothes are too big and look like they came from good will (they did).

"Have you eaten tonight?" the officer's eyes raked up and down my body as he took in my scrawny frame in the passenger seat. People assume I'm anorexic but I'm not, I just don't eat enough because I don't have enough; that used to bother me but you get used to it.

"I'm okay," I didn't want him to go out of his way to get me food. The one thing my mom instilled in me was don't take charity.

"No, really, I haven't eaten yet so I was thinking about ordering a pizza and if you haven't eaten yet I thought I'd order something you like seeing as I can't eat a whole pizza by myself."

"I'm not fussy; order what you like," I could see that he wasn't going to let up and I was actually touched that he would go out of his way to make sure I was taken care of; it was a strange feeling. That seemed to appease him and the rest of the twenty minute drive was pretty much silent. I tried to not to think about the news he had brought me and for the most part I succeeded.

Once I got to the station it was a little more difficult to forget about her. That night was mostly a blur; all I remember is having food shoved in my face and not being able to eat anything, despite my almost constant hunger, and people asking if I was okay. I always told them I was but really I wasn't; I was trying so hard not to cry and to not let my nerves get to me. I was nervous because I had never met my uncle and I wasn't sure going with him was going to be beneficial to me; mom had told me he wanted nothing to do with us. Eventually I fell asleep on a couch and they didn't bother waking me up until he arrived.

"Oh, Isabella, I'm so sorry," who I assumed to be Charlie exclaimed upon seeing me. I didn't need an introduction; looking at Charlie Swan was like looking at an older male version of myself.

"Thank you," I didn't know what else to say because I didn't have any kind of relationship with him; in my seventeen years I had never once talked to him or heard anything about his life because we didn't have any kind of contact with him.

Charlie, sensing the awkwardness of our encounter, took the initiative and introduced himself even though we both clearly knew who the other was, "Um, I'm your mom's brother, Charlie. It's been a long time since I've seen you; you were just a baby the last time."

"It's good to finally meet you," I said awkwardly.

"You don't know how good it is to see you again. I've missed you so much," Uncle Charlie was tearing up.

"Why would you miss me?" I didn't understand why he would miss me if he had never made any effort to contact either me or my mother.

"You're my family. I would have come see you but your mom didn't want me to come around you guys."

"You didn't want anything to do with us," I said shakily. Why would Mom have not wanted me to see my uncle?

"Oh, honey, I want everything to do with you," there were real tears falling down his cheeks as he said this. I didn't want to believe him but I couldn't deny the facts. Mom was paranoid; she probably thought that if Uncle Charlie saw how we were living he would have tried to take me away from her.

I had managed not to cry in the hours since I had gotten the news of my mother's death but upon hearing that he wanted me in his life I couldn't hold them in anymore. A few hours ago I was alone but now I have Uncle Charlie. He may be a complete stranger to me but that didn't matter as long as he wanted me.

"Oh, Honey," Uncle Charlie repeated. He awkwardly put a hand on my shoulder. Human interactions seemed to be foreign to him; that's something we have in common.

There was knock on the open door of the room we were in; it was a sort of living area. There were couches, chairs, a TV, and a kitchen and dining area.

"Hi, I'm Bree Tanner. I'm the social worker working on Isabella's case. Do you mind if I come in and talk to you?" a middle aged woman with long dark hair asked.

For the next hour we discussed everything under the sun from funeral arrangements to custody arrangements. When we got to custody is where things got tough.

"She's 17. It's going to take some time to get her placed into your care. You're divorced, Mr. Swan, and your ex-wife has full custody of your son. We can't just place her into your care if we don't know if you're a fit parent. I suggest foster care and then when she's 18 in September she's free to come live with you if that's what the two of you want."

"My divorce shouldn't have anything to do with this," Uncle Charlie brought his fist down on the table. "My ex-wife and I agreed that it would be best if Jacob lives with his mother. You'll see that I have full visitation rights and I'll have you know that he lives with me every summer. She's not going to no foster home!"

"I'm not saying that you're not a competent parent. You would have to prove that you're able to take care of her before you get her. That could take months. Instead, I think we should place her in a foster home."

"No!"

"Mr. Swan, please let me finish! I've been able to find a suitable family that I think you'll be happy with. You're from Forks, Washington, correct?"

"Yes," Uncle Charlie barked out. I hope he doesn't let them put me in a foster home. I know I don't know him but at least he's family.

"There is a couple there that is licensed and ready to accept any children that need homes. They have three adopted children already but that isn't a concern to us. The family is very well off and would be able to provide for Isabella."

Uncle Charlie had been looking angry until she mentioned that she would be sending me to Washington. He couldn't be considering letting them place me with strangers could he?

"What are their names?" Uncle Charlie enquired with interest.

"I'm not at liberty to disclose that at this time."

"Cullen. It's Carlisle and Esme Cullen, isn't it?" He knows them?

"Like I said, I'm not able to tell you at this time," Bree Tanner repeated.

"You didn't say no."

"I didn't," she agreed. It was easy to tell that Charlie knew the people she was speaking of; she was smiling and I even think she winked at him a little bit.

"If I'm right and this family you speak of is my friend Carlisle and his wife and children then yes go ahead and place her there."

"No, I want to live with you, Uncle Charlie," I spoke up.

"Isabella, this is your best option. You'll be in the same town as your uncle and you'll be able to get settled in very soon. They have kids your age that I'm sure you'll like. You'll see that this is going to be good for you," Bree tried to convince me.

"I want you to come live with me too but it would take so much time to get custody of you that it wouldn't be worth the money or time. Look at it this way; if you're there with the Cullen's, who are my close friends, we would be able to spend as much time together as we want. You'll be eighteen in September and then you can come live with me, if you choose," Charlie tried to reassure me.

"I… I don't know if I'll like it with them," I told him. What I'm really afraid of is them not liking me and Charlie forgetting about me.

"All you have to do is give it a chance. If you don't like it with the Cullen's we'll work something else out. Bella, the past fifteen years I've regretted not being able to be a part of you and your mom's lives. It's too late to have a relationship with my sister but it's not too late for us to get to know each other. I know this is scary but you'll see that everything is going to be okay because we'll be together."

His heartfelt words brought tears to my eyes and I couldn't choke out more than an "okay" in response.

…B…B…B…

Within a matter of hours I was put on a plane with a bag full of the few things I had with Uncle Charlie. We were being met at the Seattle airport by my new 'family.' I was nervous because I needed to able to live alongside these people if I was going to have any kind of relationship with my uncle.

It was late afternoon when our plane touched down and the panic really started to set in. Luckily I was able to hold it in and I don't think anyone noticed. We made our way to security.

"There they are," Uncle Charlie nudged me. I followed his gaze to a middle aged couple that were waiting anxiously on the other side. I didn't say anything.

"Oh, you must be Isabella," the woman with brown, curly hair and hazel eyes who I assumed to be Esme Cullen said in a sweet voice when we made our way to the other side.

"Yeah," I managed to squeak out.

"It's great to meet you, Isabella. I'm Carlisle and this is my wife, Esme," the man with blond hair and blue eyes responded.

I didn't say anything; I just nodded.

"Where are the kids?" Charlie asked.

"We left them at home. We thought we'd get to know Isabella on our own for a little while first and then submit her to the crazies that call themselves our children," Mrs. Cullen said with a wink in my direction.

"Consider yourselves lucky; your children are at least keeping out of trouble. Do you know what Jacob did a couple of weeks ago? He pulled a junk motorcycle from the dump and managed to it fix up and then crash it into a tree," Uncle Charlie shook his head as he told them about my cousin, Jacob.

"Oh, I know all about that. I was the one who had to stich up the gash in his arm," Dr. Cullen responded with a chuckle. "He was pretty proud of it too. You definitely have your hands full with that one."

"Tell me about it," Uncle Charlie shock his head.

"We should go get your guys' luggage," Mrs. Cullen reminded us.

The airport was very busy and it took us a little while to fight our way to the luggage carousel.

"Dear, do you see your bags?" Mrs. Cullen asked me.

Just as she asked me, my ratty duffel bag came into view and I walked forward to grab it.

"Let me carry that for you," Dr. Cullen took the bag off of my shoulder and moved it to his own.

"Thanks," I gave a whispered show of gratification.

"Not a problem, Honey," he gave me this warm crinkly smile that made me feel oddly comforted. I hadn't had a father figure in my life since I was eight years old and even then he wasn't a very good father; it was strange to feel comforted by this man.

"How many more bags do you have?" Mrs. Cullen asked kindly.

"This is it," I responded quietly.

"Oh, okay," Mrs. Cullen let a look of concern flash across her face for a second before replacing it with a smile. I know that they probably don't understand how I could stuff my life into one small duffle bag because they probably have a lot of money, therefore a lot of stuff, but I don't feel the need to have much; as long as I had my mom everything was okay. Now I don't even have her.

…B…B…B…

Dr. and Mrs. Cullen took us out to a nice restaurant for supper. I was very uncomfortable and wasn't sure what to order because I was not used to eating out so I just ordered the cheapest thing I could find on the menu—a chicken breast and a side of potatoes.

"What are your plans for Christmas Eve and Day, Charlie?" Mrs. Cullen enquired.

"Well, Sarah and I worked it out so that I would have Jacob on Christmas Eve and she gets him Christmas Day. Jacob and I were just going to fry the Walleye and Kokanee fish we caught last weekend. I'm not sure how this is going to work now," Uncle Charlie furrowed his brow at me. "Would you be okay with Isabella coming over to my house for a few hours? She could meet her cousin and we could get to know each other a little better."

"Well, what if you and Jacob come and have supper with us tomorrow night? We didn't have any big plans for Christmas Eve anyways. We could have a big fish fry. I have some Trout, Walleye, and a salmon from a recent fishing trip that we could make as well as your Kokanee. That way Isabella would be able to get to know us all a little better," Dr. Cullen suggested.

"Are you sure we wouldn't be intruding?"

"You know you and Jacob are welcome anytime," Mrs. Cullen reassured him.

"Does that sound okay to you, Isabella?" Dr. Cullen realized they were leaving me out of the conversation and let me have a chance to put in my opinion.

For the first time all night I spoke up, "Don't you want to spend Christmas alone with your family?"

"Yes, which is exactly why we want you three to be there with us," Mrs. Cullen said matter-of-factly.

"I know we haven't had any time to get to know each other yet, Isabella, but Esme and I already consider you family. We don't want to force ourselves on you but please know that we are your family now and we want to be there for you," Dr. Cullen shared with me.

I was left speechless by his heartfelt words. Why would they care about me? They don't know me. They don't know if I'm worth caring about. I hope they'll let me stick around after they realize I'm not worth it, after they realize I don't belong in their family.

"It's okay, Dear, we understand this is all overwhelming," Mrs. Cullen released me from responding.

…B…B…B…

I had to say goodbye to Uncle Charlie and get into the Cullen's black Mercedes after we dropped him back off at the airport parking lot where his car was parked. I learned that Uncle Charlie is the police chief of Forks when we pulled up beside his cruiser. That put a few things into perspective for me; Mom didn't want us to be around him because he's a cop. He would have known something was wrong.

"How are you doing back there, Isabella?" Mrs. Cullen twisted around in her seat to make sure I was comfortable.

"I'm Fine," I said in a light voice.

"Really, Honey, how are you feeling? I know it's been an emotional day for you. If you need to talk, we'll listen."

"I…I'm… I don't know," I told her honestly.

"I'm sure it hasn't really sunk in yet. Well, when you feel like you need to talk to someone please don't hesitate to talk to either one of us. We may not know what you're going through but we do have some experience dealing with grieving children. Did they tell you in Phoenix that Rosalie, Edward, and Alice are all adopted?" Mrs. Cullen inquired.

"No," they did tell me all of their names but they didn't tell me anything personal about them besides Dr. Cullen is the chief surgeon at the hospital and Mrs. Cullen is a stay at home mom.

"They were all a lot younger than you are when they came to us but they still went through something similar, I'd imagine. Rosalie was too young to remember anything now but when my sister, her mother, died when Rosie was two she didn't take it well. It took us months to get her on a normal schedule because she was so lost without her. Alice was six months old when we adopted her so we didn't have as big an issue there but she was distraught for the first few weeks. Edward was the hardest; he was three, almost four years old when his parents were killed in a car wreck. He wouldn't talk to us for the first week and then even after he started talking he couldn't get over the fact that he wasn't going to be going back to his parents. It was probably a year before we really had him settled in; he was just so… depressed. We didn't know what to do so eventually we sent him to a therapist and he opened up to us.

"If that's what you need, we will get you that help. If you don't feel comfortable than please talk to us about what you're feeling. Just know that we're here for you no matter what, okay?"

"Okay," I said softly. I didn't know that they had adopted children. It didn't make much of a difference but it did help boost my confidence a little bit; they were obviously willing to let people into their lives.

We sat in silence for most of the three hour drive and at some point I fell asleep and started to dream.

"Bella, honey, I'm home," Mom called out on Christmas Eve. She had been gone for a couple of weeks but I knew she would make it home in time for Christmas.

"Mom! I'm so glad to see you. I had this horrible dream last night that you were gone and I had to go live in Washington State. I don't know what I'd do without you," I ran to give her a hug but she backed away when I tried.

"Bella, I love you but I am gone. You can't touch me. I have to go to heaven but please don't dwell on that. Let me go," My mother requested what I could never give her.

"No! I'm never letting you go. I need you Mom!"

"Let me go."

"No," I heard myself scream and I started awake. "I'm sorry," I immediately apologized when I realized that I had screamed out loud and probably disturbed Dr. and Mrs. Cullen.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nightmares are a reasonable response to extreme stress. I would be worried if you weren't having nightmares," Dr. Cullen reassured me.

We were still headed down the empty highway that didn't seem to have an end in the dark. Suddenly we started to slow and Dr. Cullen turned the car onto a side road that would have been impossible for me to spot. I was curious as to where we could possibly be going when we pulled up to a huge three-story house that was all lit up in the night.

"The kids are still up," Mrs. Cullen muttered.

"Of course they are; I'm sure they're anxious to meet you, Isabella," Dr. Cullen told both of us.

…B…B…B…

We walked into the big house and the first thing I noticed was a baby grand piano followed by a living room with the biggest tv I had ever seen.

"Why don't you have seat, Isabella. I'll go get the others," Mrs. Cullen offered me a seat on the comfortable looking white couch. Before she could go up the stairs a short girl with jet black, pixie cut hair streaked down the stairs.

"Hi! You must me Isabella! I'm Alice! We're going to be the best of friends!" she was jumping up and down in front of me like she could barely contain herself.

"Nice to meet you, Alice," I squeaked out. I was trying to make an effort with these people; I'm going to be living with them for almost a year so I better learn how to be comfortable with you.

"Oh I can't wait to go shopping with you! We're going to have so much fun together!" Alice squealed. Shopping. That is something that I do not do; I can't afford it and even if I could I wouldn't want to. Without warning Alice leaped forward and gave me a tight hug. I stiffened in response but I attempted to hug her back by giving her a little pat on the back.

"Give her some air, Alice," the most beautiful male voice I had ever heard told off Alice.

A boy with a peculiar reddish-brown, almost coppery, color hair and bright green eyes had just appeared from the stairs. His tall and thin, but somehow muscular, body was making it hard for me to concentrate.

Alice gave me one last squeeze and then released me. "I'm not going to break her, Edward," she pouted.

"Of course not," he rolled his eyes at his adopted sister. "Hi, I'm Edward. I'm glad to meet you but I'm sorry it had to happen under these circumstances," He was looking at me with a smile on his face but his eyes were sad. I wasn't sure if he meant the classic 'I'm sorry for your loss' or if he didn't want me to be living with him. He doesn't look mad so I'm going to assume the first.

I just nodded my head; for some reason my reaction to the events of today has been that I can't think of anything to say to anybody.

"Want me to show you up to your room? I'm sure you're tired and just want some alone time," Edward kindly offered. That's exactly what I wanted right now; I want to go to my room in Phoenix and just be alone for a little while but I would have to settle for a borrowed room here.

"Yeah, I am kind of tired," I answered in a soft voice.

"Is this your bag?" he picked up my duffel and gave me an inquiring look.

"Yeah."

"Where are the rest? I can help you get settled in!" Alice Cullen offered me.

"That's it," I blushed when her face turned to one of horror. I know I don't have very many things and that doesn't usually bother me but for some reason I cared about what this girl thinks about me. I could tell that Alice and really where going to be friends but she would have to get used to my simple stature if it was going to work out.

"Oh, well, we'll go shopping and fix that," Alice was beaming at the idea of taking me shopping for clothes.

"Sure, Alice," I kind of promised her. I didn't like shopping but I do what to become closer to Alice and I have this feeling that this could be the way to do it. What do I know? The only friend I've ever had is my mom.

"I want to make a big breakfast tomorrow; it'll be kind of a welcome to the family and Christmas Eve celebration. What do you like, Dear?" Mrs. Cullen asked me before Edward could lead me up the stairs.

"I'm not fussy, Mrs. Cullen. Please don't go to any trouble over me," I muttered.

"It's not any trouble. I want to do this so if you have a favorite please let me know," Mrs. Cullen gave me a smile that made her eyes sparkle. "Oh, and Isabella, please call me Esme; Mrs. Cullen makes me feel old."

"Okay, Esme," was all I said. I do have a favorite, waffles, but I didn't want her to go to any trouble so I didn't say anything.

"Come on I'll show you your room and on the way up we can find Rosalie so you can meet her too," Edward ushered me up the stairs ahead of me by putting his hand onto the small of my back and gently pushing me forward. I almost lurched away from him; this spark of electricity shot between us as soon as he touched me. I didn't know what to make of it but I had a feeling he felt it too; he quickly dropped his hand as if he had been shocked. I didn't take offense; I only wondered what it could mean.

…B…B…B…

"Rosalie, come out and meet Isabella," Edward pounded on her bedroom door that was on the second floor. Apparently Rosalie, Alice, Carlisle, and Esme all have rooms on this floor along with an office space for Carlisle. It would be just Edward and I on the third floor. Something about that excited me and I fought to keep those feelings down since he's technically my new foster brother but seeing as we aren't actually related and the Cullens haven't adopted me I didn't see the harm in finding him attractive as long the feelings weren't acted upon.

"Hey," a tall blonde beauty opened the door and greeted us with a bored tone.

"Rose, this is Isabella. Isabella, this is Rosalie," Edward formally introduced us even though we clearly knew who the other was.

"Hi," I hoarsely rasped at her. For some reason I was intimidated by this girl. It might have been because all of them have been so warm and welcoming that her lack of a smile threw me off.

"Hey," was all she said again.

"Um, so anyways, I'm going to show her to her room," Edward started to walk toward the next flight of stairs. "In the morning, maybe you could try to get to know each other without the attitude," he threw back at her.

"Whatever," she slammed the door.

"Did I do something wrong?" I looked at him for reassurance. I was going over in my head what had happened I was coming up blank.

"No, she's just a little bitchy," Edward said of his older sister. It surprised me; he didn't seem like the kind of guy that would talk that way about someone.

"Maybe she's just having a bad day," I tried to defend her. I'm not sure why but for some reason I felt the need to stick up for her. There was something in her eyes that told me she was going through something and I could relate to that; when your mind is weighed down with stress and worries you lose who you really are.

"Try a bad few months. She's been in this mood since school started. I don't know what's up with her but she shouldn't take it out on you," he looked into eyes and I noticed that his where the most beautiful shade of green I had ever seen. I was so lost in them that I forgot I should respond. "Anyways, she's not that fun to talk right now but when she's in a good mood you'll actually like her."

"Has anyone asked her what's wrong? Maybe she needs help but no one's reaching out to her," I said without thinking.

He looked at me curiously when I said this. "We've asked but she insists nothing's the matter."

"I mean have you actually asked her? Not just a heat of the moment 'I'm mad at you' asking. Has anyone actually sat down with her and asked her if she needs to talk?" I figure I've already said too much so I might as well explain myself.

"I guess we haven't," he said quietly. He was still looking at me like he was trying to read me, like he was trying to figure out how I would know Rosalie needs to talk to someone when I've only seen her once.

"Just don't push her too hard," I mumbled and we continued on our way to the third floor.

"This is my room," he gestured to the first door. "And this one is yours," he opened the door and walked inside. The room was huge; it had a big bed on one wall and end tables that held lamps on either side. There was even a couch in here. There were two doors; Edward opened one that turned out to be a closet and deposited my bag inside and then left it open so I could organize it as I please. The other door he told me was a bathroom.

"It's a little smaller than all of our rooms," he started to apologize but I cut him off.

"It's too much," I said honestly. I would have lied to anyone else and told them I was fine with it but for some reason when I looked at him I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"It's really not putting us out in any way," he reassured me. "Alice and I put clean sheets on the bed today and she wants to help you decorate it. We just want you to be comfortable."

"I don't want you guys to go to any trouble because of me. I appreciate what you're doing but you don't need to do anything special for me. Just allowing me to be here so I can be near Uncle Charlie is more than enough," I don't know why I keep saying so much to him! Earlier I couldn't string a sentence together but suddenly one look from this boy and I can't shut up!

"We'd do anything for you," he looked right into my eyes as he said it and I couldn't respond and ask how they could feel that way about a stranger. His life is being changed without notice and he doesn't seem to care.

"Ah, we share the bathroom," he said after a few moments of silence. "I hope you don't mind; just make sure you lock the door on my side if you want privacy. I'll let you get settled in. If you need anything you know where my room is. Good night," and with that he left, closing the door silently.

"Goodnight," I whispered to the closed door.

…B…B…B…

As I laid in the unfamiliar room that looked out the glass wall that overlooked a river. The moon was out and was sheading a bright, silvery light over the forest that circles the house. I couldn't sleep even though I had hardly slept the night before on that uncomfortable couch at the police station. Eventually I started to think of the events from the last twenty four hours and I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to sob as quietly as possible but the more I tried to hold it in the harder it got.

My mom is dead. My mom is dead. I tried not to think of her cold, lifeless body but as soon as I started to think about it I couldn't stop. One of the first thing we did when we got to the station was go to the morgue and identify her body. I didn't cry then buy I wanted to. She looked peaceful so I tried to keep comfort in that; at least she was suffering anymore. Eventually I was able to quiet the sobs so I made my way to the bathroom so I could splash some water on my face. I turned the light on and looked in the mirror.

I found a towel and wiped my face off and while I was doing that I really took a long hard glance in the mirror. The last ten years or so have been hell and my face showed it. It was so thin my cheek bones were protruding in a way that made them look sharp and dangerous to others. My color, or lack thereof, made me look like a vampire, and the circles under my eyes were so dark that I look permanently sick. I started to think of how I got here to this point in my life and the tears came back and once again I couldn't stop them. I lowered myself onto the edge of the bathtub and just sobbed into my hands. I cried for mother and I cried for myself.

"Hey, are you okay?" Edward looked through the bathroom door he had cracked open. I suddenly remembered his words from earlier; remember to lock his side of the bathroom if I wanted privacy.

"I'm fine," I said through my sobs that wouldn't stop.

"You don't look fine," he mumbled and then added louder, "If you need to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you, but I don't think I can just yet."

"You don't have to talk about what's happened in the last couple of days," he assured me. "What was your mom like?" he asked suddenly.

"She was my best friend," I managed to choke out.

He moves closer to me and pulls me up by the elbow. To my horror he led me into his bedroom. Thankfully he steered clear of his bed and moved to a comfortable looking black couch instead. Sat down next to me with a few inches of space between us.

"Tell me about her," he prompted me quietly.

And just like that I spilled, "She was so… eccentric. She would pick up the weirdest hobbies and act like it was the new purpose of her heart and then the next week it was like nothing had happened and she was on to the next thing. She was a terrible cook; she used to try to cook for me and my… dad… when I was little but she was too experimental to ever produce something edible," I stuttered over thoughts of my father but kept going, "She could make me smile when I was feeling down by just looking at me. She… she was my everything and all that I had and now… now she's gone."

"Is your dad still living?" he asked. I could tell he didn't mean to pry; he just wanted to know if I still had one parent to depend on for emotional support.

"Yes, he is but I haven't seen him since I was eight years old," I whispered to him. Before I knew it I was spilling that to him as well even though I haven't talked about him in years, not even with my mom, "He's currently serving a life sentence in the Arizona State Prison for grand theft auto, attempted murder, murder, vehicular homicide, assault with a deathly weapon, resisting arrest, child neglect, domestic violence, and child abuse."

I couldn't see Edward I in the dark room but I could feel him stiffen beside me.

"That's, ah, quite the list," he said slowly. "Did he… hurt you?"

…B…B…B…

I could see in my mind what had happened that night. I was playing in my room quietly when I heard my parents yelling. I knew what was about to happen; he was going to hit her again. Being only eight years old, I was young and stupid and thought I could stop it so I snuck out of my room and tried to get them to stop yelling.

"Stop!" I had yelled at them. My pleas did nothing to stop him.

"Get out of here, you worthless piece of shit," my father spat at me. He reached out and grabbed me when I didn't move. He threw me roughly into my room and slapped me across the face while I was crying on the ground. "Stay in here!"

This wasn't the first time he had hit me and I knew that he was going to hurt my mom next and I loved her too much to allow that. I was taught at school how to call 9-1-1 in an emergency. I had to sneak out of my room and into my parents where there was a cordless phone on the nightstand. I hid in their closet and dialed; my heart was beating a million miles per hour.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" the operator said through the receiver.

"My daddy is going to hurt Mommy," I whispered into the phone.

"Sweetheart, are you safe?"

"I'm hiding in a closet so he doesn't find me."

"Do you know your address?"

"Yes," I recited the address I had memorized at school.

"Stay on the phone with me, okay? Help is on the way."

By the time the police arrived Phil, my father, had taken my mother out of the house in car he had stolen. It turned out that he had some kind of beef with the owner and had fatally shot him and then stupidly took his car. On the chase from the police he ended up hitting an innocent pedestrian that was killed instantly. He attempted to kill an officer with the same gun he used to kill car's owner. He tried to murder Mom as well; she was bleeding out from the stab wound he had inflicted her with but thankfully the paramedics were able to save her life.

I told the lady on the phone which closet I was in and a police officer was quickly there to help me. He picked me up and carried me out into the living room where paramedics and other officers were waiting. I was brought by ambulance to the hospital and treated for a broken wrist, cuts and bruises all over my body, and a concussion. The staff was amazed I had managed to call for help and stay quiet with all the pain I was sure to be in.

…B…B…B…

I somehow managed to choke out most of this to Edward. I'm not sure he understood but he didn't interrupt me or ask me to repeat myself. He just listened.

"I was in therapy with my mom for months afterward but eventually we just stopped going. I guess that's when things started to get bad for her. I tried to take care of her but I guess I didn't do a good enough job because she was leaving me at home by myself or longer and longer periods of time for 'work' and it eventually led an 'accidental overdose.'"

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. You were just a little kid. It's amazing that you've managed by yourself for so long. Parents are supposed to take care of the children, not the other way around. Parents are there for you and they don't hit you or leave you alone to fend for yourself," I sensed anger in his voice. Why would he be angry at someone he had never met for someone he had known only for a few hours?

"I've always blamed myself; I should have been able to make her happy," I still could not stop the tears.

"Isabella-," he started but I cut him off.

"Bella," I said through my tears. For the first time since I had been taken from home by that officer I hadn't cared enough to correct people.

"Bella… please don't blame yourself. You can't control everything around you. If you couldn't make her happy then I doubt anyone else would have been able to. You said she was your best friend; you must have put in plenty of time towards her wellbeing get to that kind of relationship. Sometime people are just so broken that nobody can fix them no matter how hard you try," he took his arm and rapped it around my shoulders.

I stiffened at first but ended up relaxing into his side and continuing to sob for a few minutes. My face was buried in his shirt and his scent overtook me when I was finally able to calm down to the point of just crying silently.

He chuckled above me.

"What is so funny?" I asked incredulously. Did he think it was funny that I can't stop crying?

"The first time I have a girl in my room that isn't one of my sisters and I've made her cry."

I managed to giggle a little in response.

"You didn't make me cry," I reminded him.

"I shouldn't have pushed you to tell me about your parents. You wouldn't have cried as much if I had just tried to comfort you instead of push you."

"It felt good to talk about them. I don't think I've talked about Phil since I was eight years old and still going to therapy. Mom didn't like to talk about him so we didn't," I explained. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders now that someone knew. In the nine years since his arrest I haven't breathed my secret to a single soul. My only question was—why had I chosen Edward to spill my heart out to?