Cabin E-37, according to http://www(dot)euronet(dot)nl/users/keesree/, which has always been accurate in the past, as far as I know, was either non-existent or unoccupied, and I'm pretty sure it exsisted. Either way, no passengers were recorded as occupying it, which is why I'm using it here. I in no way wish to disrespect those that traveled/died on Titanic or their families.

Jay Bruce Ismay occupied three of the four parlor suites, Cabin B-52, B-54, and B-56, but for this we're going to pretend that B-52 and 54 were unoccupied on the actual trip. And we're also going to pretend they each have three bedrooms, rather than two, okay?

Now, I have a question; was the Grand Staircase strictly for first class? I've contradicted myself so many times... and I know I should know this, and I'm sure I did at one point, but I need someone to clarify this for me. Thanks!

Wednesday April 10, 1912

The café was miniscule, smoky, and raucous. A cacophony of various noises filled my head; laughter, the clanking of cutlery as it came into contact with china, and the ding of a bell whenever an order was ready. The room was filled with men and women not yet ready to say goodbye to Southampton.

A select few of the patrons just weren't ready to go back to their homes, but most of us just weren't ready to say goodbye to ours.

I sat with my sister, Angela, in one corner of the dark room. We shared a plate of fried potatoes and choked on the air, thickened with the scent of cigars, as we waited until the last moment to board the ocean liner that would take us to a new life.

Angela and I had lived in the suburbs of Southampton for our entire lives. My mother had died during Angela's birth. I was four at the time, and didn't remember her very well. My father had told us stories, but of course they weren't the same as memories.

My father had worked as a police officer, prior to his death the month before. He was struck by an automobile, damned newfangled contraptions, and hit his head against the concrete as he fell. I could walk faster than most of the blasted vehicles, and I sometimes wonder if there was more to his death than that.

Angela and I continued to live at home after he passed, but very shortly the memories became too much to bear.

After a lot of discussion between us, we decided that we would take our chances and start over in America. A clean slate, so to speak, creating new memories and, hopefully, forgetting the hurtful ones.

My sister and I had been raised as respectable middle class women, although I must admit that I didn't hold a particular fondness for dresses, frills, corsets, or petticoats, and I enjoyed the occasional, okay, the regular, curse word.

We weren't rich by any means, but we were much better off than most. We packed what we couldn't live without, like family photographs and keepsakes, and gave the rest of our belongings to charity.

We had two tickets for second class on White Star's newest ocean liner, Titanic. Second class held most of the perks of first, and was nearly identical to first on other liners. Not to mention the £18 difference in the cost of a ticket.

I was scared to leave the home I'd known for so long, but I was excited about experiencing a new city, and a new country. I was nervous about sailing, but it was said that the ship was unsinkable. That calmed my fears, if only a little.

We would be starting over, completely and thoroughly, once we arrived in New York; we would find an apartment or house in the city, where Angela would be attending her final year of high school and I would hopefully be attending my very first year at university.

I was roused from my musings as a deep blaring sound came from the direction of the harbor. I looked up at the clock on the wall and gasped. It was five till noon. We'd intended on going aboard at eleven thirty, but time had gotten the better of us, or at least me, and the boat was about to leave.

"Shit," I said aloud as I lay a pound on the table. I was positive that the only waitress in the café would not be getting tipped by most of the people in the room, and she deserved to go home with a fair amount for her hard work.

Angela looked up at the clock at my curse and gasped, grabbing her coat, as she jumped up. We grabbed our belongings and rushed out the door with several others.Glad to know time gets the best of everybody.

Our group reached the gangplank just before it was raised; the workers hastily checked our tickets, checked us in, got us our room keys, collected our trunks, and hurried us up the ramp.

I grabbed Angela's hand and weaved through the dense crowd, leading her towards the stern where we found a small space by the railing to squeeze into and wave at the men, women, and children below on the docks. Choruses of au revoir's, goodbyes, and even a few Auf Wiedersehen's were shouted from both the deck and the ground.

Finally, as the horns blared, we were pulled away from the dock and into the channel by tugboats. As the dock grew smaller, and the people began to disappear, many of our fellow passengers drifted away from the railings, making their ways inside to find their cabins and staterooms. As the deck cleared considerably Angela and I left the stern and walked the length of the ship to the bow.

I put my elbow on the rail and leaned my chin on my hand, gazing down at the water displaced by the ship and tugboats. "Isn't it gorgeous?" I asked dreamily.

"Well, er... not particularly," Angela replied. "The water is practically brown. That doesn't exactly spell beautiful, at least not in my book."

"I didn't mean the water, Angie. I meant everything! The sky, the ocean, the city behind us, even the technology! It all makes up this little sliver of the world, and that in it self is amazing. Think of Titanic, but imagine it being fifty, or even thirty years ago. Who would've thought something like this was even possible?"

"Not I. But then again, I wasn't born thirty or fifty years ago."

"That's why I said imagine, Angela. No matter, though. It's not like it really makes a difference," I said with a small grin tugging at my lips.

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

I turned my head to smile at her, but something moving in the corner of my eye gained my attention. "Oh my Lord," I gasped as I watched the final restraints of another steamer break, sending the ship swinging towards us.

"Dear God," Angela gasped, clutching my hand as we stepped back from the rails, watching as the ship came closer and closer. "Are we going to die?"

"I don't think so, but injury seems to be a serious possibility." The ship was clearly smaller than Titanic, but we were turning much too slowly to avoid colliding with the oncoming threat.

"Why don't they turn faster?" Angela ground out in alarm as the ships came closer and closer together.

"Hell if I know. I do hope they'll get on with it, though."

"Bella, watch your tongue!"

"You're younger, you're not allowed to scold me," I whispered as I tugged her back a step further. The logical thing would've been to get as far away from the impact area as possible, but it was almost like watching a building burn. All logical thought flies out the window and you can't help but to stare.

Just when it seemed as though a crash was imminent, Titanic swung around the other ship. New York was proudly boasted on her side and stern.

We each let out a sigh of relief as Titanic came to a stop and workers hurried to get New York re-secured to her dock. "That's got to be a sign, right? We're headed to New York, and New York almost crushed our bow? Surely that's a bad thing..."

"Well of course it's bad thing. What good would come of the bow being crushed?"

"None, but that's not what I meant! It must be a sign. Perhaps we should get off in Cherbourg? Perhaps our father is trying to tell us something? Even our mother? Bella, what if something is going to happen to Titanic? What if we sink while there's nobody out there to help?" she spouted off frantically.

"Angela, calm down! Stop, just stop it. You're going to hyperventilate if you don't calm down. Nothing will happen, you know what they say about Titanic. She's unsinkable! Everything will go fine, and in five days time we'll be in America."

She took a deep breath and nodded her head. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm scared, though, Bella. She may be said to be unsinkable, but really? Should we collide with another ship, how can it be guaranteed that she'll stay afloat? Eventually the water will become too heavy inside, and it'll pull her under. It's really impossible for it to be impossible, don't you think?"

"No, Angela, I don't. I believe that the designers and builders knew what they were doing. I also believe that nothing will go wrong. Just focus on America, Angela. Focus on finishing high school. Focus on university next year. Focus on the good and the definite, and don't dwell on the bad and the what-ifs."

"Focus on the good, don't dwell on the bad," she repeated softly to herself. "You're right, of course. Think of America. You did remember the papers, didn't you?"

"They're in one of our trunks. How could I forget them?"

"Do you think they'll be in our room by now?" she mused.

"Why don't you go and see? It looks as though we'll be stuck here for a little while, and I think I'll stay out a bit longer."

"I'll need the key. Where's our cabin?"

"E-37," I replied as I handed her one of the room keys. "Don't get lost, all right?" I said jokingly.

"I won't," she huffed as she took the key in her hand and disappeared.

Leaning up against the rails once more, I tilted my face towards the sun and smiled. I was going to miss the English sunshine. I wonder if the sun'll be the same in America?

Of course it will, you nitwit. The entire world revolves around the same sun.

After nearly an hour of basking in the sunshine and shivering in the slight breeze, we began to move again, making our way down the English Channel and into the ocean. I was getting ready to go inside and explore when I felt a small body crash into the back of my legs.

"Uh-oh. I'm sorry, ma'am," a little girl with an American accent said from where she'd fallen to the deck. She had bright blue eyes, raven colored hair, and the cutest smile I'd ever seen.

"That's quite all right, little miss. Are you okay?" I asked as I helped her up.

"Yeah, but now Uncle James," she made a disgusted face as she said his name, "is going to be angry with me," she said quietly as she inspected the back of her dress. "There's a hole in my dress."

I looked at her back. "Oh, I don't think it's so bad. It's not even that big, you see?" I said, showing her that I couldn't even fit my index finger through the hole in the silk. "If you don't point it out to him, maybe he won't even notice," I whispered conspiratorially.

"But my mother will, and she's gonna be heapin' mad!"

"I don't know what to tell you about that one, little miss. Maybe you can put a different dress on before you see her?"

"Maybe," she said distractedly, staring out at the water. "You're from England, aren't you? You talk like they do here."

"I am, but I'm moving to New York with my sister."

"I live in New York. It's wonderful," she sighed in a dreamy voice, staring at the water once more. "Hey, we're matching!" she said loudly, snapping her attention back to me.

"So we are," I agreed as she took my hand and spun us in a circle, her short blue silk dress swirling around her as my long cotton one swirled around me. She giggled as she held my arm out and twirled under it.

As she spun and laughed a man with a toddler on his hip walked over to us and cleared his throat. "Who's your friend, Sarah?" he asked, anger evident in his icy tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I don't know your name!"

"I'm Bella. It's very nice to meet you, Sarah."

"You, too, Bella." The man cleared his throat again. "Um, what I meant to say was, and you as well. It was very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Bella."

"It was very nice to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Sarah. I do hope our paths will cross again," I said, trying to keep up with the formality her Uncle wanted her to use.

She sulked to her uncle's side, waving at me as she went. "Goodbye Miss Bella, see you later!"

"Goodbye, Sarah."

As they walked away he grabbed her hand and growled, "What have you done to your dress, Sarah? Your mother will have a tizzy!"

"Good, maybe then she'll get rid of you!" she growled back as she yanked her hand from his.

"Respect your elders, Sarah," he warned.

"I do respect my elders," she snapped. "But I don't respect you. Uncle Emmett says I don't have to."

"Well Uncle Emmett isn't here right now." He yanked her her hand back and dragged her away. Poor girl. Why would her mother leave her and her brother with such a monster?

I leaned my back against the railing, watching them disappear. I stared at the door they'd used to go inside; the first class entrance. I would probably not be seeing very much of Sarah. Except for when she was out on the main decks, she would most likely be in the first class areas with her family and people with the same social status as she.

I'm not sure why this disappointed me, but it did. At the time, I had no idea how strong a connection I'd have with this little girl and her family.

Edward Cullen

"That hurts! Let, me, go! Please!" I could hear the struggle from the hallway through our suite's door. Poking my head out, I saw that bastard James practically dragging Sarah down the narrow corridor.

"James, what the hell are you doing?" I demanded. "I could hear her through the door, so I know you hear her saying that she's being hurt."

"Oh, please, Edward. She's full of it. I'm barely even touching the child."

"Let her go," I commanded in a deadly quiet voice. He released her arm and she ran to me. I lifted her and took her arm gently in my hand. She had scratch marks and a small bruised area already showing up. "Barely even touching her? Really? It looks to me as though it was quite a bit more forceful than that."

"He's mad because I accidently tore my dress," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to though, and Miss Bella said it wasn't really big, and that if I changed before Mommy saw it, it might be okay. But James said she would have a tizzy if she knew. I don't want Mommy to have a tizzy," she told me sadly. "I don't even know what a tizzy is. Will you kiss it, Uncle Edward?"

She held her arm in front of my face and I kissed the scratches and the bruises. "All better?"

"Yes." She laid her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Say thank you, Sarah," James ordered.

"I don't have to listen to you," she teased tiredly. "Uncle Emmett said so." She leaned closer to my ear. "But thank you, Uncle Edward."

"You're welcome, Sweetheart." I turned to James. "You've got a lot of nerve, telling her what to do after what you just did, and you've got a lot of nerve telling her what to do in front of me. Alice will hear about this. Give me Charlie and get the hell out of my sight."

He put the toddler down and glared at me. "It's Charles," he growled.

"Oh my lord, you can't tell me what to call my family members. I will call my nephew as he wishes, and you will leave." I took Charlie's hand and brought him and Sarah inside.

Sarah had fallen asleep, so I set her down on the bed in my room. "Watch your sister for me, will you Charlie?"

"Otay, Unc Edwah." I sat him on the bed next to her and he watched her like his life depended on it. I left them in my room and left our suite, going out into the corridor and knocking on the door to the other suite my family was occupying.

Alice threw the door open. 'What's up, brother dear?"

"What the hell were you thinking, hiring that God awful scumbag to watch the kids?" I demanded.

"I was thinking that he's a poor man that just wanted to get across the Atlantic, and that he could keep the kids entertained."

"Entertained, huh? He's forcing Sarah to speak formally to everyone she speaks to. He had the nerve to tell me that Charlie's name was Charles, and he left Sarah's arm scratched and bruised, and he left her in tears."

"Oh, please. I'm sure you're just overreacting. I asked him to make sure that they were polite, that's all."

"Yes, well he's taken that to the extreme!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Such language coming from a lady!"

"Edward, I don't give a damn about my language. This is 1912, the world is changing... sort of. Now be quiet and tell me what you mean!"

I grabbed her arm and dragged her back to my room. "She tore a hole in her dress and was worried that you'd be mad. James," I spat his name in disgust, "grabbed her arm and dragged her all the way back here, and implied that the marks were no big deal."

"What marks? I thought you were overreacting! Edward, what happened?!" I dropped her arm when we got to the bed and gently picked up Sarah's arm, showing her mother the scratches and bruise. She gasped. "You're sure he did that? It didn't happen when she tore her dress?"

"Positive," I assured her. "That man screams evil. I don't want him near the kids."

"Well I have to pay him to do something," she sighed.

"The hell you do! You bought him a first class ticket to the states and he hurt your daughter. He doesn't need anything else."

"No, the agreement was that I'd give him five hundred, as well, for watching the children."

"Pay him to stay away, then. I'll watch them while you and Jasper are otherwise... ahem... engaged."

"Oh Edward, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. You should go for a stroll, or to the smoking room, or the library, or even the dances they hold in the evenings. This was your vacation, too."

"Alice, vacation's over. Besides, I won't go to a dance just to have the single women, and the married ones, at that, throwing themselves at me. They have no shame."

"Aren't you lonely, Edward? You should go, try to meet a nice lady. You need a nice lady, Edward."

"I don't need anybody. Perhaps I'd like a wife, but I don't need one, and I won't marry just because that's what you, or society, for that matter, deem necessary. And I will not just settle. I'll wait for somebody that I truly love, thank you very much."

"And what if you never find her?"

"Well then, I suppose I'll grow old alone," I answered with a grimace. "But, as I said a moment ago, I won't marry just because it's what I should do. I don't care if that's what our society wants from me, or what you want from me. I won't do it."

"You think I give a damn about society? I wouldn't have married Jasper if I did. You know as well as I do that society would never have allowed our marriage fifty years ago. They're still iffy about it now, but I don't care. He didn't have the money most people need to earn their so called love, and he earned mine nonetheless. He just needed to be himself, and that's what he did," she sighed. "Whatever you do, just be yourself. And make sure she's being herself, too. I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Alice. Thank you, though. I really do appreciate your concerns... almost. And I wouldn't be happy if I didn't love my wife. You know that."

"I'm just looking out for you, Edward. You looked out for me my whole life, and now you're looking out for my kids. You need somebody to look out for you, and until you find her, it's my job." She gave me a hug, then turned to look at Sarah. "I'm going to find Carlisle, I want him to look at her arm."

I sat down next to Sarah and rested my head in my hands. Of course I wanted a wife. That was everyone's goal in life, besides being successful. But nobody seemed to understand that I wouldn't tolerate an arranged marriage. Who wanted to be forced to spend the rest of their life with a potentially horrible woman?

Emmett and Rosie had been lucky in theirs. Rosie's parents had died in a fire, and seeing as she was only seventeen at the time she couldn't access their accounts, leaving her dirt poor. Her bastard uncle was going to sell her into marriage with a God awful crook, but Esme had been friends with Rosie's mother and arranged to have her marry my brother. They couldn't stand each other at first, but they soon became the best thing to have happened to the other.

And while arranged marriages didn't happen nearly as often as they used to, high society expected its members to be married and popping out babies by the time they're twenty three. When that didn't happen, people were often pressured into allowing a wife to be chosen for them. I would not let that happen to me; I was already twenty four and doing just fine on my own.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and looked at Sarah, snoring lightly, her cheeks still slightly damp. How could anybody just blatantly hurt a child like that? How could anybody intentionally hurt an innocent little girl? I just didn't understand it. Did he think he would get away with it? Did he think we wouldn't be angry? Because I was infuriated.

I didn't have time to work myself up again, as Alice was coming back with Carlisle. "Sorry it took so long, he was in the smoking room."

"Alice, you were gone barely five minutes. It was a lot quicker than it should've been. And she's fine, look."

She pouted as she looked at Sarah's sleeping face, her lips parted slightly and her cheeks glistening with the tears still resting there. "But she's broken," she sighed.

"She's not broken, Alice," Carlisle assured her as he picked up her arm, examining it gently. "She'll be fine, I just want to get the cuts clean. I'll be right back." He left my room and was back in less than a minute, a glass of some solution in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

"What is that?" Alice demanded.

"Relax, Alice," Carlisle said, exasperated. "It's just soap and water. They aren't deep enough to need anything stronger... she isn't even bleeding."

"But who knows what he has under his fingernails!" She gasped. "Their could be dirt in there, or snot, or what if there's.... oh God." Her face became a mask of horror. "Clean it, Dad!" We didn't dare call him Carlisle to his face.

"No, Alice, I think I'll sit here and drink it," he snapped as he dipped the cloth in the glass and then gently rubbed it over Sarah's arm. She muttered under her breath but didn't wake, and as soon as Carlisle was done cleaning it she rolled over and started to snore. "She'll be fine." He stood up, patted Alice's shoulder, and was gone.

"What the hell was that?" she muttered. "Patting my shoulder? What am I, one of his colleagues? I don't think so. Why does he treat me like that?"

"That's just who he is, Alice. He's old fashioned. He doesn't agree with our choices and because of that, he doesn't treat us like his children."

"I miss him," she sighed. "I miss how he used to be. Why does he have to be Carlisle? Why can't he actually be Dad again? What happened?"

"Jasper happened. My refusal at marriage happened. New technology and ideas happened. He doesn't like change, you know that."

"Well maybe he should learn to be more agreeable."

"Maybe we should learn to accept who he is."

"I won't," she argued.

"As you wish. I can't force you to do anything, and I don't really want to."

"Good, because you wouldn't win. Are you sure you don't mind staying with the kids?"

"Yes, we're fine. Go enjoy the rest of your vacation while you can. If they're awake, we'll meet you for dinner in a bit."

"Thank you, Edward," she said as she left to go back to her room. My parents, Sarah and Charles, and I shared one suit, while Rosalie and Emmett, their daughter Catherine, and Alice and Jasper shared the other. We couldn't keep the kids all in one room because Catherine often had nightmares, and she would wake the other two up when they were together.

Charlie had fallen asleep, so I left the kids on the bed and lay on the couch, falling asleep within minutes.

When I woke up it was dark outside, Charlie wasn't in sight, and Sarah was sitting at the desk, drawing in her sketchpad. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and looked over to see what Sarah was drawing. "Whatcha got there, kid?"

"We stopped a little while ago. Papa said it was Cherbourg. I'm drawing the Eiffel Tower."

"You know that's in Paris, right?"

"Yes, but it's still France."

I looked over her shoulder. "That's very good," I commented.

"Thank you," she replied. "I like to draw. It's the only thing I'm good at."

"What do you mean by that? You're good at a lot of things."

"No I'm not. I'm always tearing my clothes, and I don't talk the right way, and I'm not polite enough. I don't do anything right."

"What makes you say that?" I asked incredulously.

She turned to me and rolled her eyes. "Who do you think?"

I knelt beside her chair and put my arm around her shoulders. "Don't you listen to him, Sarah. Nothing he says matters. He was wrong to say what he said to you, and he was wrong to hurt you. Nobody should be treated like you were," I told her as I pulled her from the chair and onto my lap. "You're what's important, not him."

She buried her face in my shirt and started to cry. "He said I'm illiterate. What does that mean? And he said I'm nice like I should be. And he never lets Charlie walk by himself, and he gets mad when I call him Charlie. He makes me call him my uncle. He's not my uncle, and I don't want him to be my uncle. Uncle Emmett said I don't have to listen to him, but he said it didn't matter cause Uncle Emmett wasn't there. I don't wanna go with him anymore," she sobbed.

I rubbed her back, attempting to sooth her. "No sweetheart, you don't have to go with him anymore. You and your brother are going to be around me for most of the rest of the trip. Speaking of your brother, where is he?"

"He's at dinner. I wasn't hungry, so Mommy took him and let me stay here with you. Can we go for a walk? A real walk, where we don't have to walk slow?"

"Sure we can. But first, I think we need warmer clothing."

"Kay," she sighed, wiping her eyes and getting off my lap. I went to my room and put on an overcoat, and when I came back Sarah was in one of her night gowns with a heavy coat over it. "This good?" she asked.

"Perfect. Let's go." We left the room hand in hand and made our way to the main boat deck. Once outside, Sarah pulled her coat as tightly around her as she could with one hand and skipped along, holding onto the railing with the other.

"People can die if they breathe the water, right?" she asked me about halfway down the deck.

"Yes, it's called drowning."

"Can the ship drown?"

"Well, the ship doesn't breathe, so no. I suppose it could sink if it was hit hard enough, but the builders claim that it's unsinkable."

"That's silly. If it floats in the water then it can sink in the water, right?"

"Well, technically yes. But Titanic is supposed to be very safe. There are water tight doors, so even if there were a hole in the hull, the water would stop."

"It doesn't matter how safe it is if there's a hole in it. The water will come in through the hole and get too heavy, right? Then the ship would go under water. Doors can't stop the water."

"Well they're big metal doors, not just like the ones to our rooms."

"Still, water could get past the cracks underneath and above, right?"

"I don't know, Sarah. Maybe, but you don't need to worry about that. Nothing will happen."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked worriedly. "Mommy always says that nothing is impossible."

"Mommy is right, but it isn't likely that anything will go wrong."

"Promise?"

"Yes, Sarah, I promise."

She left it alone after that. When we reached the end of the deck we turned, ready to go back, but muffled arguing caught my attention. It came from behind a stairwell door. "Stay there, Sarah." I sat her on a chair and pushed the door open slightly.

"Let go of me, you wretched bastard!"

"Careful there, pretty miss. You wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty little face of yours now, would you?"

"Fuck you," the woman spat. With that mouth she'd get along great with Alice.

"That's what the goal is, my sweet. Come on!"

"No, let go of me!" she screeched with force, and a moment later the man grunted. I pushed the door open all the way and found James keeled over, clutching his stomach in one hand and the woman's hand in the other. "You're lucky I have terrible aim, or you'd be much worse off," she seethed.

I slammed the door shut and the woman jumped, her eyes snapping to mine. I tore my gaze away from her and glared at James. "What is wrong with you?" I yelled at him. "In what way is it okay to do these things?"

"Oh, I'm not the first," she growled. "Earlier today he hurt a little girl!"

"Trust me, I know," I brushed it off. "Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn't have you arrested!"

"She doesn't belong up here, it's the first class deck. She snuck up from second class."

"Who cares? You belong in the cargo hold!"

"How dare you? I belong here just as much as you do."

"You are the epitome of filth and vulgarity. You belong nowhere near me, or anyone else on this ship." He lunged at me and that's when I realized he reaked of whiskey. I shoved him into the wall and motioned for the woman to open the door and go out, but she wasn't quick enough. As soon as the door was open he shoved me backwards and we crashed into her. The three of us went down, James on top of me and me on top of the woman.

I shoved James off and he stood up, brushed himself off, and smirked at me as I stood to help the woman up. She accepted my hand gratefully but was incredibly unsteady on her feet. "Seriously, stay away from us," I directed at James.

"Yeah, nobody likes you, and you stink!" Sarah added. The woman giggled as James glared and Sarah smiled angelically. As soon as he was gone I really looked at her face, and she was beautiful.

"Bella!" Sarah gasped in recognition. "Hi!"

Bella. Beautiful Bella.

I decided to add the kids in about halfway through this chapter, so I've gone back and added them into the prologue. Nothing changed, though, other than adding their names in.

Thanks to everyone that's put this on alerts, favorites, or reviewed so far. It means a lot to me!