Ellie felt herself being wrenched back into reality, feeling as though she had just been beaten from head to toe with a stick. A hard stick. Maybe a pole. Slowly she sensed her surroundings. Was she dead? Where was she? What had happened?
She drew one big blank as to how she had gotten to this point. She was completely unable to move, and her world was still black. But she started to notice certain things.
First was the heat she felt emanating from her body, compared to the cool air of wherever she was. Next was the tingling she felt from head-to-toe. Particularly in her neck. It was uncomfortable, but not entirely painful. Sort of like running cold fingers under warm water after being outside on a cold winter's day.
She could hear a soft, quick, melodic voice nearby (was this what angels sounded like?). Words that were familiar, yet distant. She wondered who was speaking these strange words. She also seemed to be unable to breathe. This bothered her, because she had a peculiar sweet smell she couldn't exactly pinpoint that seemed to be replaying in her head like a song, and she wanted to find out what that was.
As she thought about how very much she would like to breathe, how much her body really wanted air right now, and how nice the cool air would feel surging through her lungs, suddenly her neck felt like it was on fire, and then, just as quickly as the fire started, it stopped. She knew she would be able to take a breath now.
With a deep inhalation of air, many things assaulted her senses at once. That frustratingly sweet scent was back again. But the scent had taken on a new dimension and added more depth, as if a symphony of that smell was being played. It still raised the hairs on the back of her neck, but the smell was familiar now, and not as alarming.
Next was the tingling of every one of her senses, except for sight. The tingling was different from before, and didn't cause her any pain or discomfort. On the contrary, Ellie felt completely in control and confident in her instincts. Yes, that was what they were—not senses necessarily, but instinct. She still couldn't see, but she could tell her body was working on it and she would be able to when she was ready for it. Suddenly the voice she had heard before was louder and more urgent. Still melodic, though, and pleasant to hear.
"Carlisle, that was definitely her breathing. What is going on? She's been dead for hours. I swear I didn't touch her, not that the thought didn't cross my mind. A sister. I never knew I had a sister."
The voice was heartbreakingly sad, and Ellie wanted nothing more than to comfort the speaker. Surely angels never got this sad.
"Her heart wasn't beating when I brought her here," the voice continued. "So I knew it would never work. This is different from Esme, completely different, I agree… When I pulled the scissors out of her neck just now, it was as though her body had been waiting to heal itself. There was no venom in her system, so how is this possible? We have to have done something to her." A pause. "No, I still can't hear her."
Scissors. Scissors had definitely been involved. Long shiny silver pointy shears, perfect for cutting flowers. Flowers—her clearing—the boy with her bronze hair and her nose and her last name—Elizabeth, candidate for the role of absentee mother. The memory of what had happened suddenly popped back into place, like it had been there all along.
Collapsing under the emotional weight of everything she had been feeling, Ellie's head had landed on the basket of flowers she had been busy cutting before her world was turned upside-down. The shears she had been using were sticking straight up as her neck landed perfectly on top of them, piercing through to the other side.
She remembered one of her last thoughts being the phrase Sister Marguerite told her as a child, "Curiosity killed the cat," and then thinking how morbid her sense of humor was. Then she had looked into the fearful eyes of Edward, her possible long-lost brother, and had thought how very much she would have liked to get to know him. And then the world had gone black.
But here she was, listening to Edward have a one-sided conversation with a man whose presence she could definitely sense in the cool room. Why wasn't he responding? It was if she was eavesdropping on a conversation Edward was having over the telephone. She heard this new man—Carlisle, Edward had called him—run incredibly fast up a set of stairs and then heard him scraping open drawers, pulling out instruments, and returning just as fast.
Soon after, she felt someone put a stethoscope to her chest and take her pulse. She also heard the night birds' songs and wondered what time it was. She smelt what she expected was a fainter, more gentle, feminine smell, though it still stung her nose—or was that just the lingering smell of cleaning products? There was an old fire smoldering outside.
She very much wanted to join this world, but still couldn't move. Edward, brother, she thought. I'm trying. I am.
"Carlisle! Ellie, can you hear me? Keep trying, please. Can you move anything?"
She was wondering if she had gotten the ability to telepathically communicate during the accident. She was indeed getting a freakish laundry list of unnatural abilities. Communicating that way seemed to have worked the first time, but she wanted to hear her own voice against Edward's. She expected their two voices would be harmonious, like a major chord on the piano. She wanted to move. She wanted to see what was going on in this strange new world around her. She wanted to talk to her only connection to her family. Enough was enough.
Coughing and opening her eyes, Ellie forced herself upright, with the help of Edward's cold, strong hands. Judging from what she saw out the window, it was twilight, and she was sitting on a dark wood table in the middle of a sparkling clean, expansive dining room. It was infinitely fancier than anything she had ever seen before, yet understated. She decided the word "tasteful" would fit this place the best.
She looked for Edward and smiled, proud of herself. Mind over matter, she was taught growing up. Well, she did it. But Edward looked like he had seen a ghost rise from the grave. That was when it clicked. She
froze, and her body became unnaturally still, as it always did when caught in an unpleasant situation. She had just raised herself from the grave. Normal people in tasteful dining rooms should never be able to do that. No one should. And before this point, no one outside of Sister Marguerite, who would rather die than betray Ellie's trust, had known she was able to do that.
She looked fearfully from Edward, who was seeming to be as cautious as he could around what he must have thought was his dangerous freak of a sister, to the new man, Carlisle, who seemed the calm eye of the squalor. Her thoughts were racing.
"Edward, I…" she rambled off, trying to find some way to explain herself. Her voice was hoarse, which seemed to scream "Hey! I just raised myself from the dead!", so she shut her mouth. When she looked down, she noticed she was in a silk dress that was not her own.
"Listen, Ellie…" He paused, glancing at Carlisle, who maintained his aggravatingly calm demeanor. "Do you remember anything that just happened?"
Ellie remained silent. Silent as the grave, she thought. Her best approach would be to figure out what they knew (or thought they knew), and then deflect questions from there. Then she would run away at the first opportunity, back to the convent where she would petition Mother Superior to send her to a cloistered Sisterhood somewhere far, far away. She would probably jump at the opportunity to be rid of her. Leaving Sister Marguerite would be tough, but doable in order to protect the secret they shared. It was like her greatest fears were suddenly being realized so soon after her greatest hopes and dreams had come to play.
"Carlisle," Edward muttered, maintaining his gaze curiously on her eyes. "I'm not getting anything from her. Nothing. Has she gone into shock?" Carlisle exchanged a look with Edward, and stepped forward.
"Ellie, dear, you've just been through a severe trauma. Edward here says you had an accident in the woods before he rushed you here. My name is Carlisle. I'm a medical doctor, and this is our home. I've been treating a Sister at your abbey, Sister Marguerite. Maybe you know her?"
Ellie nodded. So they thought she was a little addled in the head after accidentally stabbing herself with her own scissors. Maybe they could chalk this up to a freak accident, and call it a day. Something about the doctor's voice made her feel safe, and mentioning Sister Marguerite gave her a pang of homesickness for the convent.
"Good, Ellie. Now, I see that you're feeling a little better, but I'd like to check you over more thoroughly before I let you go. Would you be okay with that?"
Ellie cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchiness that was there before, wanting to stop the doctor before a full-out medical examination went underway and blew her cover.
"Actually, sir, I'm feeling fantastic now, better than ever. I must have been out for a while. That happens sometimes. My body just turns off for a bit and does its own repairs. No doctors needed. The Sisters will be worried where I am, so I should probably head back now."
She went to hop down off the table, but Edward stuck out his arm and kept her from going anywhere.
"Wait a second. You don't just go from sprawled-out-dead on our dining room table to scampering home. I want answers. Who are you? No human should be able to do what you just did."
Edward was suddenly harsh, and his change in attitude from caring brother to ruthless interrogator made Ellie flinch. It also woke up her temper. And she didn't appreciate the way he said "human," like it was a dirty word. She exchanged glares with him.
"Edward, enough," Carlisle interjected, putting himself between the pair. "Ellie, dear, please excuse my son's behavior. We're not used to having houseguests. At any rate, your abbey is miles away, so it would require a car ride back. I'll call the convent, tell them that you've had an accident, but are safe now under my care. There is no need to worry. I can give you a ride as soon as you'd like to go home. If we left now, however, it appears we would hit the storm that's been threatening all day. I recommend staying the night here, and going back in the morning. After my son's outburst, I can understand why you would want to leave as soon as feasible. I promise no harm will come to you, either way."
Carlisle had to have been terrified after what he just witnessed her do, and yet here he was, comforting her. Ellie had heard how kind the new doctor was from Sister Marguerite, but was now witnessing firsthand what she meant. Despite Edward's flare-up, she had never felt safer or better taken care of.
"Thank you," she said to Carlisle, hoping she was able to express half the gratitude she felt toward him. "I apologize for forcing my company on you, and also any fright I may have caused you. It was extremely kind of you to take me in. Is there anything I can do to lessen your burden? I mean no harm to you or your family, either, for the record." She added the last part for Edward's benefit, and threw him the nastiest glare she could muster.
"The only thing you could possibly do would be to accept our offer to stay the night. My wife will be delighted, and I promise you will find yourself in better company. Edward, I believe Esme went out for a walk after cleaning up. Could you go find her and tell her the good news?"
Edward stomped out the door in what Ellie imagined to be his version of a hissy fit, although he moved with much more grace than she had anticipated. She prepared herself for a long night.
"Edward and Esme may be a while. Please, let's move to the parlor, it's much more comfortable there."
Carlisle led the way to the next room, lighting lamps as he gracefully maneuvered the space, which was even larger than the first room had been. There was a massive piano in the corner of the room, next to huge windows that took up nearly the entire wall. Weaving her way around the gold-engrained coffee table to an armchair nearest to the piano, Ellie could imagine a happy family gathering in this room. Someone would be playing the piano, and everyone would be singing along. Children would be running around, and the adults would be eating and drinking and laughing. She stopped herself before her imagination got completely away from her. How was it possible to be nostalgic for something that she never had?
"I'm sorry again for Edward's outburst," Carlisle interrupted her thoughts. "He was very much out of line, and sometimes has a temper that surprises even me sometimes."
"You have nothing to apologize for. And I can understand his short temper. I have one too, and it tends to get me into trouble. I'm afraid if you hadn't stepped in between Edward and myself, you would have been witness to it. You should be treating short tempers as a doctor, not physical aches and pains."
Conversation with the doctor was pleasant, and not nearly as strenuous or as awkward as Ellie had anticipated. She had never sat in a parlor before, and so never learned proper "parlor-talk" etiquette. Carlisle smiled kindly.
"Ah, you remind me so much of Edward when you speak. I don't know if Edward got around to telling you, but I treated his parents before they both died of influenza. You look remarkably like Elizabeth. You have her eyes, and you both have her hair. Edward tells me you knew nothing about her."
At this new topic, Ellie's heart sputtered and her palms began to sweat. The doctor wasted no time in getting down to business, did he?
"No, I know nothing. Only that I was dropped on the convent's doorstep as a baby by her—Elizabeth." It hurt to say her name aloud. "I don't know anything else. The Sisters there were kind enough to take me in, and I've been there ever since."
"How unfortunate. I can understand how strong the shock must have been when you came across Edward this afternoon."
"I think describing it as a shock is an understatement. Sir, if you don't mind me asking, how well did you know… Elizabeth?"
Ellie was insane with curiosity about the woman she had never known, yet was unsure how much she wanted to know.
"Well, like I said, I treated her and her husband. Edward the First passed shortly after they came to the hospital, but Elizabeth had an incredible fighting spirit. I believe you get to know the most about a person right before they die. She wanted to be sure that Edward would be taken care of after she passed. Her blazing green eyes, I think, are the reason why I took Edward in. She also mentioned his twin sister, towards the very end."
Ellie got very still. "Please, what did she say?" she whispered.
"I'm not sure if I should continue, dear, you've had enough of a shock. I don't want to upset you any more than you already have been today."
"Please, I've wanted this and waited for it my whole life," she begged, turning the full force of her green eyes upon him.
Sister Marguerite called her look the "eyes of God," and said no one, mortal or deity, would be able to deny her a thing after looking at those eyes. Apparently she had her mother to thank for that. She could only cross her fingers it worked.
"Well, she told me a story about having a little girl with a very special ability. Her family was extremely superstitious, and she knew that keeping the girl would only make her grow up in a hostile environment. She had no idea what to do with her, realizing that the only option was an institution, which wouldn't be much better than keeping her.
"She said that one Sunday, a visiting group of nuns stopped by the church. The love this group showed for the children at church absolutely blew her away. She found out where they were from, and left her baby girl there one night soon after, praying that God would know what to do with her. Elizabeth said she thought about her every day of her life, and prayed that her baby would have the strength to one day forgive her."
Ellie was completely silent, tears filling her eyes. So this was it. This was what she had been waiting to hear for 20 years. She wasn't sure if this knowledge helped the ache in her gut or worsened it, but she was grateful that the doctor told her.
"You were that girl, weren't you?" Carlisle continued gently. "You have a very special gift that I was fortunate enough to witness. You are Elizabeth Masen's daughter, are you not?"
"Yes," she managed to let out. "Yes, I am her daughter. I never knew. I never knew a thing."
As her voice cracked, the doctor hugged her tightly, and she realized that her secret was safe with him. After a long moment, she took a few steadying breaths and gathered her strength. The pain she was feeling was nowhere near close to being over, but at this very moment, she was in charge of her emotions.
"Goodness, I am a mess today," she smiled, wiping her eyes, not sure if any tears had escaped. "First I get myself killed, raise myself from the dead, and then throw myself at you. It's nice to meet you, Dr. Cullen." Ellie stuck out her hand in greeting.
The doctor laughed as he took her hand. He had the same musical laughter as Edward.
"You have no idea how nice it is to meet you, Ellie. But please, call me Carlisle." He paused, still smiling. "Ah, they're back, sooner than I had anticipated. I'm sure my wife will be entirely disappointed that I have offered you neither food nor drink in her absence."
They rose as the front door opened, and Edward and a young woman walked in, her eyes full of motherly concern. Esme Cullen had walked into Ellie's life.