Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Sorry for the delay guys! This weeks been absolute chaos and I haven't had much time to write. But I got a break today for a few hours so I thought I'd put some pen to paper, finger to keyboard, whatever. Also, thank you so, so much for the incredible response to the last chapter! You guys are far, far too kind.

I'm terribly sorry about not responding to them, individually as I would have liked to but time permits me to either review to y'all or post another chapter and I figured that you guys prefer the latter. ;)

Thanks again for reading, you guys are far, far too awesome. I'm sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than usual but I wanted to post something. Hopefully the next update is longer but it might be a while. I promise I'll keep updating though, it's just that school gets in the way of writing.

Hope you enjoy it!

-S

Model Imprint

Chapter 4: Something New

And the world looks so much brighter
With you by my side
I know that something has changed
-Start of Something New, High School Musical

Breakfast will a hurried affair. I was filled with restless energy, torn between hunting for my parents and going back into the woods to see if I could find my wolf.

I needed to know for sure that he wasn't a figment of my imagination.

The need to understand was burning through me.

Burning.

But where should I put my time, the people who raised me, and loved me my entire life or the mysterious creature I stumbled into yesterday.

The answer seemed obvious but arriving at said decision was anything but.

Eventually I forced myself to open the morning paper.

Parents, first.

And then, then, I could do anything I wanted.

Front page was blank, but that was expected, nothing about my parents would be so important, it was in the nooks and crannies, that's where I expected to find something.

I skipped the arts and sports sections. There would be nothing there.

The business section came next and as I combed through, article after article, in a painstaking process, I felt myself growing more and more tired.

I hated this. All this work, and each article only added to the hope that the next one, the next one would hold the secrets or at least a clue to my parents murder.

But almost two weeks had gone by and I'd seen nothing.

It was hard to keep up the momentum.

But I kept looking. Day in and day out.

Business was useless, nothing important.

But then in Arts and Culture, a small, small article caught my eye.

The Cullen hospital in Seattle had won a lawsuit. There wasn't much about the nature of the suit, but just that it had been settled in the hospital's favor, winning a neat two million, which would be donated to rebuilding parts of the children's atrium.

I took a breath.

It was the first mention of anything related to my parents that I had seen in days.

And I was nervous again.

So, so incredible nervous that it would lead nowhere again, that I would be without again, that I couldn't find them.

I could do this. I knew that.

I pulled my laptop towards me, opening a new window.

I searched the Cullen hospital and there on the front page was a small story about how M. A. Brandon had been charged with plagiarism.

She'd apparently copied the work of a Mary Whitlock, an artist who created a piece in New York for another hospital somewhat similar in design to the creation outside the hospital.

Odd.

The hospital that sued her had done so without the permission of the original artist who had passed long ago.

But the claims were retracted upon contacting Whitlock's family.

The New York hospital had been forced to repay the legal fees.

I scanned the remainder of the article in the paper but there was no further mention of Brandon or the Hospital.

But there was the name of the lawyer.

Carlton Wayworth.

And my heart exploded. The beats pounding furiously as I reached my shaking hands to type in the password to my email.

It couldn't be-there was no way, no way.

But there it was, in the email that someone had sent from my mother's business account.

The lawyer's name.

Carlton Wayworth.

He fought in court on behalf of M. A. Brandon, who painted for the Cullen Hospital, which was named after Carlisle Cullen who put my parents to rest.

There were so many coincidences and not enough links.

I couldn't put the pieces together.

Not yet.

But I felt the hope within me renewed.

Finally, finally, I had something new to work on.

Things were looking up.

I searched Cartlon Wayworth again but his contact information was not listed. I tried every possible way I could think of for the next hour and a half to find him, but there was nothing.

And then, as the wood of the chair beneath me pressed harder into my back, I felt as if even the furniture was telling me to give up; that I wouldn't find him; no matter how hard I tried.

Shoving my laptop forward, I leaned back, stretching my arms behind me.

I had been so close, so incredibly close to something.

I knew it all fit together somehow.

It had to.

Wayworth handed my mother's store over the Cynthia only a few days after she'd gone missing. Which meant he was informed before even I was that she had disappeared.

But by who?

Detective Lucas knew more than he was telling me and so did Office Matthews. Wayworth might know Dr. Cullen but there was no way to prove that except the proximity of their involvement with my parents case.

All I knew was that so far he had handled a case affiliated with the Cullen's and then another affiliated with my parents.

But why?

I ran my fingers through my hair, furiously. I felt frustrated, and tired and miserable. Because it was like the truth was dangling just out of reach, but I was just that second too slow to grasp it.

Shoving my chair back, I stood up and my eye line aligned with the kitchen window.

And I saw the forest and inspiration struck.

Perhaps it was time for a break.

I ran out, letting the grasses brush my bare legs as they flung their bodies this way and that way in the furious winds that had taken over La Plush today.

The trees beckoned me forward and I ducked into their welcoming arms with fervor.

And then I stumbled to a stop.

But there was nothing; nothing but masses of trees and twigs and fallen leaves that littered the ground.

I wandered for a few minutes, hours, days I couldn't tell but I just kept walking, knowing somewhere inside that eventually, eventually I would find him.

The trees turned into an endless canopy, fading in and out of my sight and it seemed as if the woods went on forever and then I reached the clearing again.

I must have unconsciously traversed in the same direction I had gone last night.

And there he was.

Sitting, staring directly at me.

I halted, unsure of myself but before I could even start to call him, he was there, before me, moving impossibly fast.

I felt my arms, my mind, my thoughts, and my jumbled emotions all relax.

He towered over me, his razor sharp canines glinting in the waning sunlight above me but I felt not terror, only longing for him to be closer.

I pushed my hand into the heavy coat before me and he dropped to the floor, almost purring contentedly as I stroked him.

"Hey boy." I cooed, delighted as he tossed me another wolfish grin.

"I guess I should give you a name, huh?" I tilted my head, thoughtfully. It couldn't be just anything. He needed a real name, something as wonderfully terrestrial and earthy as he was.

"Billy." I decided finally.

He looked puzzled for a moment so I repeated it.

"Billy, it's your name. Or well, I don't know if you already have one but I thought I'd call you that."

He dropped his head into my lap. I wasn't sure if that was acceptance exactly but I'd take it.

The wind rushed again, slightly hindered by the tall pines surrounding me but I felt my hair fly up around my face and I sunk down slightly towards him.

And then they whipped even faster and I felt the dirt starting to move as the frustrated air beat around them, shoving and pushing them into the air and away from the home that gravity drew them to.

I tried to hide my face in my hands, shoving an arm over my eyes when that proved to be too little coverage.

And then a rock struck my finger and I cried out.

"Crap! That hurt." And then the weight on me lifted and Billy was there, everywhere.

And he was blocking me.

He was protecting me.

I looked up at him just as he looked down and for a moment, as I watched just his eyes and everything else faded away, I felt safe, completely, and utterly safe.

And then the wind dropped down again and everything was calm, even the trees.

And we just sat, Billy and I, in silence. But the world had never felt more vibrant or perfect.

I came home, the world dark and empty now that Billy had retreated for the night. As soon as the sun had start to set he had gotten up, and nudged me with his nose until I rose as well and then slowly he walked me back to my backyard.

And then he disappeared into the forest faster than I could follow with my eyes, leaving me only with a long, sorrowful howl.

I kept myself from looking back for too long.

I knew he wouldn't come back, not today anyway, but it was hard to make myself go inside.

It had been a perfect day, of calm and peace and I felt absolved of my anxiety; my resolve was strengthened.

I was ready to start the hunt for my parents again.

I strode, determinedly over to the back door when a stray wire caught my eye.

As I traced along the pattern, I saw another and another, until I reached the security camera facing the yard, or rather the lack there of.

It had been ripped out of the wall.