Author's Note: It feels weird to come back after so long. I am sorry to have kept you all waiting. Well, here it is, the fourth chapter of this lovely story! As always, I am here to inform you that I don't own Twilight and the franchise belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Please enjoy and come back for more! I'll be sure to keep posting as long as you want me too! Love you in the same author/viewer relationship. Platonic. No need for any more lawsuits ^-^

Some time passed between breakfast and my eavesdropping adventure, and yet the only change was the darkening clouds swirling outside my window. So much for the warm welcome, I thought as raindrops began to pelt steadily against my window. The sounds were lolling and I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open despite sleeping plenty the night before. The boredom was getting to me. Now that Embry was gone and his father- well her father as well- was off doing who knows what downstairs. I could hear the erratic beating of something and could only assume that it was him nailing something down with a hammer. At one point, I could hear him curse loudly and laugh to himself. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. The way the two other males in the house interacted with each other perked my curiosity to no end. It was like they were dancing around some sort of truth that I wasn't aware of. And that truth was probably exactly the thing that sent my mother running from the La Push reservation.

Excitement course through my veins and the new feeling of adventure was a nice change from the depressing thoughts of my lost loved one. I pushed myself from the gloomy window seat and crept quietly to my door. I pushed it open slowly and just enough for me to slip my slight frame out into the hallway. The sounds of pounding were much more prominent now and I could tell that it was coming from the living room. My eyes locked onto the door that led to my father's room and my heart began racing against my rib cage. I couldn't bring myself to go towards the room. I wasn't one to go snooping through other people's belongings, especially people who have taken me in and is technically my father. My eyes moved to the door next to father's room. Embry's room was shut off as well. There was no way I was going to go in there. So, if I wasn't bold enough to sneak into their rooms, where was I planning on snooping? I turn around, thinking of going back to my room again, but something caught my eye. A long string hung from a rectangle shaped door on the ceiling. It was the attic, I was sure of it. I crept closer to the string, cringing with every loose board that made a creak. The pounding of the hammer continued to echo through the house which was at least somewhat reassuring.

Once I was near enough to the string to touch it, I reached up on my tip-toes to grab it firmly in my tanned hand. I gave it a tug and was greeted with a groan as the stairs unfolded. I paused with panic seizing my every muscle. Why was I so frightened of being caught? The banging paused and my air caught in my throat. What would he think if he caught me snooping around his house like this? Before I could think of the worst case scenario, the banging continued. I let out the air I was holding in my lungs and looked up into the seemingly endless darkness of the attic. What if there wasn't a light up there? I glanced back over my shoulder at my bedroom. I might have a flashlight somewhere, but there was no telling when whatever project my father was working on would be done. It's either now or never. I gulped and finished pulling the stairs the rest of the way down. They were old, made from wood and was coated with some dust. Were they even strong enough to hold me? I lifted my foot and tested the bottom step with a little bit of weight. It held surprisingly well. I began to ascend the stairs slowly. Many of the steps creaked and groaned, but one in the middle didn't seem very stable. I would remember to be careful on that step when I would come back down.

When I stepped up into the mildew-scented darkness of the attic, a large cobweb clung to my hair. Gross, I thought as my eyes tried to adjust to the dark. My bravery was quietly fleeting. Outlines of boxes were stacked and scattered among the dusty floor. I reached around for a light switch or a string. I touched the wooden walls with clumsy fingertips. Suddenly, my fingertip grazed against something sharp and I jerked my hand back with a gasp. Pain inched it was subtly down my hand as warm liquid began ebbing up. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. Just as the thought crossed my mind, a string brushed across my cheek. After the shock and fear ran through my system, I quickly shot my arm up and tugged on the string. A low glow of orange erupted from a swing bulb above my head. It added to the who creepy atmosphere of being in this old attic space. My eyes drank in my surroundings with childlike curiosity. Large boxes were stacked up against the wall while smaller boxes were scattered nearby. Most of them were clothes and labeled in black marker. Words like 'Kitchen Supplies' and 'Embry's First Christmas' could be read in very masculine handwriting. Pretty average stuff, though the thought of little Embry and his father spending a snowy Christmas together warmed my heart.

I shouldn't feel disappointed. There was only a slim possibility that anything would be up here pertaining to my mother. Still, a heavy weight of disappointment made my shoulders slump forward. I thought I was one step closer in finding out the secrets my mother kept from me. Instead, this only showed me how normal Embry and his father were before I came here. I felt silly for sneaking in here like some vigilante. I promised myself to leave hope of discovering something insidious behind and just move on like a normal person. I headed back to the lonely steps leading back to the bottom floor and a single box caught my eye. Something about it... seemed familiar. It was a plain, brown box that was smaller than the rest of them. No words were scribbled on it. It wasn't the look of the box that drew me in. It was the smell, or at least that is what I thought. It made no sense, though. It was a few feet away and to top it all off, the box was shut tightly with clear tape. I inched my way closer to the box, not knowing why I couldn't seem to stop myself. It was such a familiar smell...

I attempted to open the box, but the tape was securely placed in layers. I would have to bring a knife or something up here to open it. I attempted to lift the small box and was surprised at how heavy it was. Dust clung to the box and the moment I hefted it up, it filled my nose. Uncomfortable itchiness took over and the urge to sneeze was almost overpowering. I contained myself for a moment though my eyes watered slightly. I moved the box closer to the steps and set it down to rub my nose. That is when I heard more than one masculine voice fluttering in from the lower level. And they were getting closer. Crap, crap, crap. It wasn't like I was told that I couldn't be up here, but if I was close to discovering what drove mom away, I didn't think they would appreciate it. I glanced back at the box with a small smile. I was, in fact, one step closer to discovering something. I could just feel it. I would come back, I vowed, soon. And I will be taking that box with me next time.

I quickly rushed down the stairs, being careful of the rickety one in the middle. Laughter could be heard loudly coming from the direction of the kitchen. My father's voice was much closer talking to someone about all the work he got done today. Panic and excitement hit me at once as I shoved the stairs back up as quietly as possible. I had to jump up to close the door completely with a small click. I only had time to dust off my clothes and hair for a moment before father and another large, tan male rounded the corner to where I stood. My eyes widened for only a moment, but a felt a small smile tug at my lips to disguise the feeling of awkward shyness that consumed me. Father beamed brightly at me and I relaxed slightly. He obviously didn't suspect me of anything out of the norm. My eyes scanned the gentleman at his side, who looked a few years older than myself. Father cleared his throat and his eyes sparkled.

"Hey Nikki," he said, "this is Sam Uley. He has been a family friend for a long time. Sam, this is my daughter Nikki I was telling you a little about her earlier."

Sam's dark eyes bore into me like he was assessing me as a threat. Or maybe a prey. Either way, I shifted uncomfortable under his unsettling gaze. Finally, he spoke up in his deep, rumbly voice. "A little? I never thought you would shut up about her. Nice to meet you, Nikki." He reached for my hand and clasped it with his much larger, calloused hand. His eyes took in my features slowly before he added after releasing my hand, "though she looks more like Amelia than you."

I could hear my father laughing, but I ignored him and finally spoke up for the first time since I met up with them in the hallway. "You knew my mother?"

Amelia Call was my mother's name. She never changed her last name to her maiden one after she left father. Part of me held onto the belief that she still loved her estranged husband, even after all those years. When the words escaped my lips, even I could hear the surprise and desperateness in my voice. Sam's facial expression never changed to show his surprise, if there was any. Instead, he regarded me in an even tone under his cold gaze.

"I met her when I was really young. She always had a big smile on her face and candy in her pockets for the other kids on the reservation."

I smile despite myself. My mother always had hidden treasures in her pockets. I relaxed the moment he said he knew of my mother. I nodded but was too afraid to speak after a ball of emotions clumped in my throat. My father shifted like I did only moments before. It was strange to see how similar we were despite not growing older with each other.

"Well, Embry and the boys are making dinner for everyone. Why don't you clean up your hands and help them out? Sam and I will be there in a moment."

I happily agreed and beelined to the bathroom to wash up a bit; however, I couldn't help but look back at Sam's muscular back. There was something about him that was... off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he just didn't seem normal. I closed the door to the bathroom behind me and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was not surprised to see the dust that still clung to my clothes in many places. Not to mention the cobwebs still present in my hair. I laughed softly as I cleaned myself up. I wondered what those two thought I could have possibly been doing to get so messy. And how were they able to keep a straight face and not mention it? I stuck my hands under the warm water and began washing them. My eyes caught some crimson on my fingertip and I remembered the sharp stab from upstairs. I really hope it wasn't a rusted nail. I looked at the small wound once I was finished washing the soap from them. My eyes widened in slight shock. My finger was already scabbed over. That was very strange. I stared at it for a long moment until I was shaken from my thoughts by more laughter. I shook my head and turned off the water.

I didn't know what to expect when it came to 'Embry and the boys', but it certainly wasn't what I saw when I stepped into the somewhat cheery kitchen. Full sized teenage boys around my age were lounging in the kitchen. They looked totally out of place, especially Embry and the boy helping him cook the spaghetti at the stove. Not to mention, the huge pots that were boiling over with water and sauce. Were they trying to feed an army? Once glance at all the boys who were now staring at her told her that yes, they were.

"Uh," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush a bright pink. This cause Embry and the other boy to look at me.

"Nikki!" Embry hurried said, looking from me to the other boys. "uh, guys, this is Nikki. Remember, I told you a bit about her."

Their eyes bore into me like I was some sort of art piece or an attraction at the zoo. I lifted my chin, but courage wasn't my strong suit. "Good evening," I said quietly.

The boys seemed to relax slightly after I spoke up. They began teasing Embry and myself like we were old friends. My eyes scanned the bunch of miscreants until my eyes fell onto the one at Embry's side. He was as big as the rest of them, but he had a dominating presence. Not as intimidating as Sam, but there was some sort of power in his amber colored eyes. He was staring at me while I drank in his high cheekbones and the small curve of his lips. There was an energy around him that both excited and frightened me. A bark of laughter at my side made me jerk my eyes to the boy they so lovingly called Quinn. I smiled despite not hearing the punchline of the joke. I needed to excuse myself. There was too much going on for my brain to process. I grabbed some dishes and excused myself by stating I was going to set the table. I would have to return for more glasses and silverware of course. They were, after all, feeding a small army.

Once I stepped out of the kitchen and into the nearby dining room, I felt a little more calm. Who were all those boys? Were they the ones running off with Embry into the woods? My mind swirled with questions that didn't have answers. Yet. As I set the glasses up and extended the table out longer, determination filled my mind. I would figure out just who Embry was running off with, see if they knew anything about mom, and maybe learn a few more secrets about La Push reservation. Anything sounded better than staying trapped in my own mind in this creaky little house.