Missing
Renesmée was about one year old, looked like she's five, and behaved like she's ten; Bree was to remain fifteen as long as she lived, and they were the best of friends. With Nessie's birthday drawing near, Alice was ecstatic over preparing for a party. Perhaps it's the magic that Renesmée brought to our lives: Rosalie, who used to be aloof from the rest of us, was collaborating with Alice for the celebration. But Bree was in a relatively somber mood; she stayed in her bedroom organizing a scrapbook and allowed no one to disturb her.
I wasn't worried, but as her new father, I couldn't help but be concerned. Although Bree was normally reserved and withdrawn, it was unlike her to just shut everyone out.
"She'll be fine, sweetheart," my wife Esme said to me. "She has six other brothers and sisters to look out for her."
That was true, although I couldn't count on Bella and Edward with a lot lately. Since their first anniversary, all they had done was locking up the cabin where they lived. I couldn't blame them; it had been an entire three hundred and sixty-five days since they had been bound by marriage: something that they both had desired for so long. But they hadn't even joined us in hunting since: they had a small refrigerator full of deer blood.
Our lives had been peaceful since the day the Volturi had spared Renesmée's life. The Quileute wolves had vowed to help us keep our territories safe from destructive forces; Jacob Black's connection with Renesmée was a significant factor. Meanwhile, we had everything we needed here.
With two girls to "raise", suddenly I felt like we had a real family at last. I liked that of all my children, Bree was the only one who called me "Papi", a name also used by Nessie.
Bree still needed some training in resisting human blood. Jasper and Edward estimated that it would take at least two more years before Bree could go to school again. Due to this, Bree somehow developed an inferiority complex; she was deeply jealous of her brothers and sisters, especially Bella and Renesmée. The boys and I had to restrain her during a fit of frustration at least once.
Bree hadn't had a fit of rage for a while now; while this was supposed to be a good omen, I couldn't be too easy when Bree locked herself in her bedroom one day and refused to at least answer through the door. "Bree," I called, "we're going hunting today. Would you like to come along?" I knocked on her door three more times. When she still didn't answer, I grew anxious.
"Darling, what are you doing?" asked Esme, when she saw me backing off the door without taking my eyes off it.
I didn't answer. With an animal cry, I leapt forward and kicked the door down. As I had suspected, Bree was no longer there.