Edward had obviously heard my thoughts as I approached the house, for all of them, from Esme to Alice, were assembled in the living room by the time I came in the front door. I did not waste words on unnecessary preamble. "The police are certain that an animal is responsible," I informed my family, noting their visible, almost palpable relief at this long-desired conclusion. "Evidently, the wound was ragged enough that they assumed the woman bled to death from it, and since she was found in the water, no one wonders at the lack of actual blood."

"So we don't have to move?" Rosalie asked. Alice, in the background, had leaped into Jasper's arms and buried her face in his neck. He absently stroked her back even as he watched me obliquely, tensed as he waited for me to finish.

"No, Rosalie. Provided we behave as normal and let the situation run its course, this need not be another Rochester," I replied pointedly. Rosalie looked away in embarrassment. I experienced a pang of remorse for bringing up her twenty-year-old indiscretion, but felt the need to remind her that none of us is perfect. "Jasper?"

"Yes, sir?" he asked softly, dropping his gaze.

"Why don't you go upstairs to your bedroom, son." It wasn't a question, and he knew it. "We need to have a talk." Now that the long wait for absolution was over, I had decided to get Jasper's punishment over with as quickly as possible. That way, we could all start over with a clean slate.

I saw Alice give Jasper an extra-hard squeeze before letting him loose from her embrace. My young daughter knew what would happen; even if she had not 'seen' it already, she would easily have guessed. I do not spank my children frequently, but there had been a few occasions since she and Jasper joined us. Alice stared at my face pleadingly as her husband quietly walked past me up the stairs, and I gave her a small smile that I meant to be reassuring. I hoped she did not believe I would ever treat Jasper — or any of them — cruelly.

"Dad?" I turned to find Edward standing by me, shamefaced, hands crammed in his pockets. "I, uh . . . I was supposed to go hunting with him that day, but I went to school anyway," he admitted sheepishly. "We'd all missed so many classes lately because of the weather, and what with finals coming and all . . . I figured it could wait. I never thought for a second he'd go alone."

It was obviously hard for Edward to admit this to me, particularly since he had been so hostile toward his brother for hunting alone in the first place. "Thank you for telling me, Edward. But the decision was Jasper's, and he knew better." Edward's face was still twisted with guilt, so I gave his shoulder a firm yet comforting squeeze. "We all have made mistakes, son, and will continue to make them. You are not your brother's keeper."

Edward looked down at his shoes and nodded. I doubted very much that he would let himself off the hook anytime soon, but I was quite encouraged to find that he had been willing to speak up on Jasper's behalf, despite the often acrimonious relationship the two shared. Our children may fight amongst themselves, but for all that, any of them would defend the others to the death. Jasper was not Edward's favorite sibling, by any means, but the familial bond was still there, just under the surface. Seeing the evidence right here in my 'youngest' made me realize anew that our family would always manage to survive whatever trials we faced. Nietzsche may be correct in calling hope the worst of all evils, but that is one evil I am perfectly willing to perpetuate indefinitely.

When I entered his and Alice's room, Jasper was sitting on the edge of their bed, his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up as I came in and shut the door behind me, and I had to repress a shudder at seeing those tainted eyes staring at me so directly for the first time since the accident. Though not exactly crimson, not after five weeks, they were still distinctly red. I immediately regretted feeling such horror, however; Jasper's face crumpled as he picked up on that particular emotion.

"I'm so sorry," he whimpered. "I swear it was an accident. I didn't want to be a monster."

"I know it was an accident, son. I do not see you as a monster," I reassured the distressed young man. "You will, however, be receiving a spanking for your carelessness." Jasper recoiled slightly, but he nodded his understanding. Like Alice, he had witnessed his siblings being taken to my study on more than one occasion, and knew how discipline was administered in this family.

In the three years that Jasper has been part of our household, I have never had to spank him. Despite his issues with self-control, my newest 'son' is truly a kind and gentle young man. His courtly manners ensure that he gets along perfectly with Esme and Rosalie, and naturally he worships Alice. Edward and Emmett try to engage him in their activities, but with them he maintains a careful distance, emotionally as well as physically. I wish the three boys could behave more like brothers . . . three years, it seems to me, should have been enough for the ice to break between them.

Towards me, Jasper has always behaved rather coldly. Not that he is ever disrespectful, of course — only that he does not speak to me beyond a few necessary words, and he spends most of his time avoiding everyone save his pixie wife. At first, I attributed his reticence to the fact that he had spent most of his 'life' in a coven with a strictly-enforced hierarchy, and had no frame of reference for our family structure. As time went on, however, it became clear to me that it just was not Jasper's nature to form close attachments – the exception, of course, being Alice. Even after Jasper came to accept Esme and me as, for all intents and purposes, his parents, there was still a chasm between us that I feared could never be bridged. Never had I been addressed as 'Dad' by him, as the others — save Alice, who usually called me 'Daddy' — tended to do, nor was Esme ever 'Mom' despite her having repeatedly pleaded with him to call her by that name. Evidently, Jasper's biological family had not been particularly close, either.

As it was Jasper's first time being punished this way, I felt some clarification was in order. "I am unaware of just how much, if anything, you have heard from your brothers on this subject," I began, "but I want you to understand that I am not angry with you, son. We all make mistakes. Your punishment will hurt, as it must in order to make an impression, but I would never go so far as to physically harm you. In a moment, I will ask that you take down your trousers and bend across the bed, and there you will remain until I give you leave to stand. I will not tolerate histrionics, but you may cry as much as you need so long as you do not try to interfere. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Jasper replied, low.

"Tell me why you are being punished, Jasper," I ordered him, but gently.

My reserved son, whose soft voice always reverted to its original Southern drawl when he was particularly agitated, bent his head in shame. "'Cause Ah hurt that lady so bad, and almost messed up our whole life heah."

I fought to keep my temper; how ironic would it be if I were to lose control while lecturing Jasper on losing control? "No, Jasper, you have misunderstood. You are not being punished for killing Aileen. Do you really believe a spanking would nullify the taking of a human life? It was a regrettable tragedy, but a mistake we have all made at some point."

"You haven't," he muttered.

"What makes this particular regression so terrible is that it could easily have been prevented," I continued, choosing to ignore his interruption. "Edward has admitted to me that he backed out of your plans for hunting together, and he feels partly responsible for your actions. I understand that you need to hunt more frequently than we do, we who have had years of experience in taming our thirst. But you are responsible for taking extra precautions. You should have come to me and let me know you needed help. You know better than to go by yourself."

"I ain't a little kid," Jasper protested, "what needs his hand held all the tahm!"

My eyes narrowed at his tone and rebellious statement. "You are acting like a child right now, young man. Is this about pride? Did you leave on your own because you could not admit weakness?"

"Ah've been with y'all three years now," he cried. "And Edward all concerned when he had to leave for school, like Ah can't be let out my cage or somethin'! Three yeahs, and Ah can't even go to school! The rest of 'em don't have to stay home all the tahm. I know they all think Ah'm some kind of animal; Ah can tell what they thinkin'."

"You cannot compare yourself to the others," I told my son, guilty for not realizing sooner just how much he felt like an outcast in our family. "You have been drinking human blood for ninety years, far longer than any of them have even existed. Three years it has been, and this is your first . . . accident. You must not become discouraged now, Jasper."

"Ah dunno if Ah can start over again," he replied, sounding tired.

"You must."

"Ah can't!" Jasper burst out, and I was taken aback by the sheer torturous despair in his voice. "Ah tried, Cahlisle, Ah swear to you Ah tried. It's too late for me; Ah just can't ever be like the rest of you. Ah tried so damned hard . . ." Jasper's voice choked off at the end, but he took a deep breath and continued. "Maybe it would be different if Ah'd . . . if Ah'd found you sooner," he said, "but . . . it's just too hard." He hunched his shoulders and sat tensed, as if waiting for me to attack him.

It was a long time before I could trust myself to answer. The situation was a great deal worse than I had originally suspected. Punishing Jasper at this point would accomplish nothing; he would still labor under the misconception that he was being spanked for accidentally killing the young woman, as if somehow the former would even come close to erasing the latter. How to make him understand that this was a risk we faced practically every day, and that only constant vigilance and a sincere desire to rise above our circumstances could prevent such accidents from occurring?

As I stood, undecided, an idea began forming. It was risky, and did not appeal to me at first, as it involved hurting this already-vulnerable young man still further. But he was so willing to sacrifice himself for others, or for his honor . . . how else to turn that self-loathing around and guide, rather than force, Jasper toward the right decision?

"It would appear, then, that you have a choice to make," I finally replied. "No one of us is perfect, Jasper. You have the option to admit that you are no different, accept the punishment for your carelessness, and return to living one day at a time, striving all the while to let your better nature overcome your instincts."

"Ah dunno if Ah can," Jasper whispered, his eyes tortured from the shame of the admission.

I braced myself and forced my voice to remain cold, praying that I could carry it off . . . and that I was making the right decision. "If you are not willing to try, then there is no place for you in our family." I did not believe, in that moment, that my son's horrified expression would ever again be far from my mind. "Gather your things together, and leave this house tonight."

Jasper's shoulders sagged as he nodded in defeat. "Yes, sir." His voice was calmer now, resigned, and not so heavily accented. He stood and crossed the room to his closet, where he retrieved the tattered rucksack he had brought with him when he and Alice first joined us.

"Jasper." I placed my hand gently on his arm, and he paused with the sack in his hand, though he would not look at me. "It need not be this way, son. All I ask is that you try."

His voice was flat, devoid of any accent, inflection, or emotion. "I can't. I did try, and obviously I've failed. Alice was right; yours is the better way, perhaps the only way. But it's too late for me. Of course, I don't expect her to ever go back to what we were, and I'll do my best to help keep her from falling along with me."

Vampires' bodies are filled with venom, and they maintain extremely low temperatures. Yet were those things not true, I would swear my blood was running cold. "I beg your pardon? You intend to . . . to take Alice with you? Rip her away from our family?" My voice rose involuntarily, and I bit down hard on my tongue to check my temper.

"She is my wife," Jasper replied slowly. "We were together before we ever came here. How could only one of us leave?"

"That decision, of course, must lie with Alice," I replied, fighting to control the panic that was rising in me before he could sense it. "I would hope that you had enough . . . enough humanity left in you that you would not wish such a life on your mate."

He flinched at the words, and at the steel in my voice. "I would walk through flame for Alice," he said quietly. "But I know she'll insist on coming with me."

"As I said, that is her decision." Please, not my daughter . . . not my sweet little fairy . . . "One who cared about her safety might discourage her from doing so, however. If it be that she is fortunate enough to have taken such a lover." Jasper toyed with the brass buckles on his pack. "I can only hope that Alice is not sacrificed to your selfish needs." With that, I strode from the room, venting some of my frustration in slamming Jasper's door somewhat harder than necessary.

The living room was empty save for Alice, who had taken her usual place on the davenport. She looked up as I came into the room, her eyes questioning. "Is it over?" she asked me, confused.

I stood gazing at my petite daughter for a long moment, unsure of how to proceed. "Where are the others?" I asked, as much in an effort to stall as to ascertain who was still in the house just then.

"Rose and Emmett left for the diner, Mom's on the porch, and Edward's in his room." Yes, indeed, he was. I had not even noticed when Edward's record player began blaring "Wheel of Fortune" — my sensitive youngest son probably meant to camouflage the sounds of Jasper's spanking that way. The music served another purpose as well — I could speak privately with Alice without Jasper overhearing our conversation.

I sighed and sat down next to Alice on the couch. "Sweetheart, I know how much you and Jasper love each other," I began. "There is a bond between you that makes me ache inside to witness it. He is very disturbed right now, believing that he is too weak to continue on a diet of animal blood. I . . . we unfortunately exchanged some hard words, and I have asked him to leave if he is not willing to try again."

Alice looked aghast, and I rushed to explain. "Sweetheart, I don't want him to go — for me, 'tis 'the most unkindest cut of all' that he would abandon us rather than start over. But I believe that Jasper will benefit from leaving for a short while and returning of his own volition. He expects that you will go with him. Of course, you must make that decision for yourself, and I will support you no matter what . . . but if you stay, I know it will bring him back that much sooner. Can you trust me?"

Alice nodded. "He will come back," she told me confidently, though her eyes held too much fear for my liking. "I know he will."

I gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Thank you, love. I can only hope that — "

Just then, Jasper appeared at the top of the stairs. "Alice, may I speak with you?" he asked, his voice distant, before turning around and re-entering their room. Alice slipped out from under my arm and followed her husband, turning to give me a reassuring smile before closing the door behind her. I stood up and headed out to the screened-in patio, where my wife sat waiting in the cool evening stillness.

Esme laid down her book and stared at me expectantly, her hands folded in her lap. Whenever I am compelled to punish one of the children, I always go to my wife afterwards, so that she can tell me I did the right thing and not to worry so much — they do not hate me, and I am a wonderful father, and whatever else she can think of. Just hearing her sweet voice telling me those things, true or not, is as salve on a wound to my overactive conscience. This time, however, it would be my duty to soothe Esme as our changed circumstances were laid out for her. My unbeating heart ached for my wife, who would soon be bereft of one of her brood. As I met her questioning gaze and tried to find words that would comfort her, it seemed that all my hidden doubts and regrets were suddenly surfacing at once, as if to deliberately obfuscate reason with wave upon wave of gripping, paralyzing fear.

I may never know exactly what was said during their interview, but my daughter's face when she followed Jasper out to where we sat not ten minutes later will haunt me for the rest of my existence, if I live ten thousand years and witness the end of the world by nuclear holocaust, or ice swiftly forming under the faded glow of an ancient sun. Jasper paused in front of the screen door and turned to look at us, shifting his pack higher on his shoulder as he did so, although there did not appear to be much in it. His eyes were eerily devoid of emotion, and despite the fact that we had acted as his parents for the past three years, I realized just then that to this tortured soul, we were as strangers for all that. Jasper's expression was stony, but there was something in his voice as he spoke, some small catch, that belied his façade of nonchalance. "Please take care of Alice," was all he asked, however.

Esme could not suppress a plea for him to stay. "Darling, you needn't leave us like this. We can help you; please don't go away." She had begun to cry as I told her of Jasper's decision, dry, tearless sobs that hurt me greatly to hear and caused me to doubt even more the gamble I had taken.

Jasper shook his head. "I can't put your family at risk any longer." Esme and I both flinched at his use of 'your.' Alice suddenly launched her tiny form at her husband as if to pull him bodily back into the house, but he only gently pried her arms from around his waist and stepped away, keeping her at arm's length. Alice emitted a low, almost animal whine before she began to cry along with her mother. "I truly am sorry for the trouble I've caused y'all," Jasper said, an ominous note of finality in his tone. His eyes were now those of a dying man just before the final turn of the rack, but one who refused to cry out or beg for mercy, even to save his life. And somewhere in the commotion of my wife's sobs and Alice's piercing wails of anguish, my quietest son walked out the door, into the thick forest, and disappeared from our lives — who knew, then, for how long?