"The cemetery?" I repeated. "Why?"
Edward's jaw tensed as he looked away. "I will explain on the way," he turned to me again. "Will you show me, please?"
I stared back at him for a long moment before eventually nodding. He lit the lamp on my bedside as I searched for my slippers. As soon as I had them on, Edward took my hand and tugged me out of my small room.
Heat rushed to my cheeks for what seemed like the hundredth time since he was here. On one hand, I supposed it was because I was not used to any type of affection from the men. But I believed that it was more because it was Edward who was giving me attention.
San Diego was quiet once we silently exited the manor. The moon was high in the sky so I could see everything clearly but I was still glad we had the lantern.
We were both quiet as we walked and my mind ran in circles. What could he possibly want from the graveyard? And at this hour? I did not know what time it was but it had to be late.
After a few minutes, we reached the edge of a collection trees near the edge of town and I broke the silence first.
"Lady Rosalie was correct when she said that the cemetery is a long way from here. However, there is a shorter path through this forest," I said but as I looked at how dark it was, I began to have second thoughts about passing through. I have used this way many times before but it was always during the day. During the night, the forest could be more dangerous.
Sensing my hesitation, Edward placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Don't worry," he smiled down at me. "I am here,"
I nodded and took a deep breath before taking a step forward. Edward's free hand held mine again, keeping me from tripping over large roots and stones.
Finally, we made it to the other side of San Diego. It was very different here; it was mostly bare lands and mountains as far as the eye could see. Still, there were a few huts nearby, one of them belonging to my friend Alice.
"This way," I murmured as I tugged on Edward's hand. The cemetery was so close I could already see it from where we stood. Edward must have seen it as well since he moved faster and lead me this time.
"What are we doing here?" I asked, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around my body. The night had become cooler and the atmosphere of the graveyard caused the hairs of my body to stick up.
Edward seemed unperturbed, however, simply muttering to himself as he looked at gravestone after gravestone.
"Edward?"
"Anthony Masen," he said. "Help me find Anthony Masen,"
I did not know what else to do so I obeyed. After searching for a short while, it appeared that there was no Anthony Masen in the yard at all.
"Did you find him?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry,"
Edward took a deep breath and ran a hand through his unruly hair. He looked pensive as my curiosity and confusion rose. He was gazing at the almost barren landscape when I asked him again.
"Edward, what is happening? Who is Anthony Masen?"
"My father," he replied, not taking his eyes off of the scenery. "Anthony Masen was my father,"
I gasped. His father? But he was a Cullen. His father was asleep back at the manor as we spoke!
"B-But Lord Cullen…"
"Is not my biological father," he finished.
"I don't understand,"
He sighed. "I am the son of Anthony and Elizabeth Masen. Fifteen years ago, my father left England for San Diego with the British Ambassador. He was a journalist and the story of the Ambassador's visit was his assignment. My mother and I expected him to return after a few months but he never did come home. I was just about to turn eight when we learned of his death.
"My mother was devastated; she would not speak for months and refused to eat. Carlisle and Esme, close family friends of ours, took care of me during the days when my mother was too depressed to even get out of bed. They adopted me legally when she passed away not long after,"
"Oh," I murmured, finally understanding. "I'm so sorry,"
"It's alright," his smile was almost rueful. "Carlisle and Esme love me very much and have treated me like I was their own flesh and blood. Still, I kept thinking of my birth father. When Carlisle mentioned visiting the Hales here, I knew that this was my opportunity to see him,"
"But why must you do that at night?" I asked. "Why not when the sun is up?"
"I wanted to come here during the day, believe me," he answered with a slight chuckle. "In fact, this is where I wanted to go when I told everyone during breakfast that I wished to explore the town. The addition of Jasper and Rosalie did not make that possible, however.
"I could not sleep just thinking about going here," he sighed. "And it was my restlessness that made me wake you. I'm sorry for interrupting your rest. I'm sure you must be tired from all the chores you've had to accomplish today,"
I was about to tell him that I didn't mind when the light of another lantern caught my eye. My loud, terrified scream would have echoed if Edward had not reacted quickly and placed a hand on my mouth and at the same time putting me behind him in a protective stance.
"What are you two doing here?" It was the gravedigger. I exhaled in relief as I looked at him. His back had a permanent curve from bending too much and his face was weary with age.
Edward looked at me in askance since the old man spoke in Filipino. I quickly responded.
"I…I was just showing Lord Cullen around San Diego, manong," I lied with a slight smile.
The gravedigger huffed in reply. "Do it when it is not in the middle of the night, then. It is very late and you are disturbing the spirits,"
"We're sorry. We were just leaving," I grabbed Edward's wrist and tried to pull him away.
He resisted. "Wait. Who is he?"
"The gravedigger," I explained to him. "We must have awakened him,"
"He must know where my father is then!" he exclaimed, taking himself out of my grasp effortlessly.
"Sir, forgive me for disturbing you, but do you know where Anthony Masen is buried?"
The old man looked back at Edward with a very confused look on his face. It was obvious that he did not understand a word of what Edward said. English – like Spanish – were only taught to the rich and the elite so it was not surprising that the gravedigger gave such a response.
I translated Edward's message to the best of my ability and this time, the gravedigger gave a better answer.
"Anthony Masen," he repeated, rubbing his facial hair slowly. "Yes, I remember an Anthony Masen,"
"Where is his body?" I asked.
"His body…is that what you are looking for here?"
"Opo,"
"Well you aren't going to find anything here," he said. "Anthony Masen is in the river,"
"The river?" my eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. What do you mean he is in the river?"
"I let his body float there,"
My eyes widened in shock and my mouth opened. Why would they do that to his body? Even Indios were given proper funerals when they passed. The services given by the church were simple but the dead were always respected. So why was it that a foreigner – one accompanying the Ambassador – would be treated so callously?
"Isabella?" Edward spoke. "What did he say? Where is my father?"
I opened my mouth but no sound came out. How do I tell him?
"He…he is floating in the river," I whispered. "They…left dumped his body in the river,"
I watched in silence as Edward's expression turned from hopeful to angry. The fury that so clearly burned in his eyes was frightening and I took an involuntary step back.
"The river," he growled as he slowly turned to the old man. "You dumped my father's body in a DAMN RIVER?!"
Before I could react, the lantern fell to the ground and Edward's hands were gripping the man's shirt roughly.
"Why? Why would you do that?!" he demanded.
The gravedigger, not understanding anything, trembled with fear and began to beg and plead for mercy.
"I'm sorry!" he cried. "B-But it wasn't my decision. Father Marcus…he demanded I do it! Let me go! Please!"
The mention of Father Marcus' name made Edward loosen his hold and the man staggered back.
"What did he say?" he asked me in a low, angry voice.
"I-It was Father Marcus' decision," I told him quietly. "He was the one who told the gravedigger to…to place your father's body in the river,"
Edward gave another growl and this time the gravedigger scrambled away. I resisted the urge to do the same; his anger was terrifying.
The two of us stood there in silence. Edward was looking away from me, his hands clenched into fists, perhaps still trying to control his anger while I nervously looked around. We were not that loud while we searched through the gravestones yet the gravedigger still heard us. Maybe Edward's outburst awakened more people.
"We should go back," I said, finally. "It is getting later and other people might come,"
All I received in response was a slight nod. We cut through the forset again but this time, I struggled to keep up. Edward was moving very fast and I found it difficult to match his speed with my long saya and ungraceful movements.
We reached the manor in record time and without a sound from Edward. He went to his room as soon I pried the kitchen door open, leaving me with an unlit lamp and much confusion.
Manong – means big brother but we also use it to address people who are older than what you'd consider an elder brother
Opo – polite way of saying yes in Filipino
Saya – long skirt worn by Filipinas of this era
Despite the introduction of Christianity to the Philippines by the Spaniards, many people (especially the elder ones) still preferred Animism or the worshipping of nature. All aspects of nature – plants, rocks, animals, etc – were believed to possess spirits that must not be disturbed or disrespected.