Author's Note: It's Dee again with the latest installment of your favorite fic. This one's quite a dozy…I wrote so much, and it's supposed to be even longer! I couldn't bring myself to make you guys wait any longer so I just decided to make that the part of the next chapter! Well…on with the show.

Thanks to all the readers, and reviewers!! I love you guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight series or the characters.

--

Once I got situated (I was to stay in the old housekeeper's quarters. "Sorry, we ran out of rooms" Alice shrugged sheepishly), Alice grabbed me by the hand.

She was like a whirlwind. She blew me everywhere, introducing me to almost all of my "siblings" (except Edward of course.), giving me a tour of the gardens, and the house.

It felt like she showed me the kitchen, the living room, and one of the bathrooms all at once. The only comment I could seem to make was that it was really big.

It was a lot to take in.

"This is my room!" Alice gestured excitedly.

The room seemed pretty small in comparison to Rosalie's, but once I stepped in I realized it wasn't any smaller. It only had much more…stuff.

To the right was the vanity. It was littered with toys on the top, near the sides, everywhere. The mirror had toys on, and all around it.

There were pictures of a girl stuck in the mirror.

"My sister." Alice explained. She looked very amused.

"You make such funny faces!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know—"

"No, don't worry about it. It's quite complicated." She sighed.

"Everyone in this house is either step siblings or half siblings. Emmett is my half brother. We have the same mother but different fathers. Edward has a different mother than Rosalie and Jasper. That is my half sister, Cynthia."

It certainly explained how Alice was so small and Emmett was so big. I couldn't tell between Jasper and Rosalie. They looked so much alike anyway, and I was yet to have met Edward.

That meant that Carlisle wasn't her real father. Alice was the only one being nice to me, and we weren't even related. I felt a pang of sadness. I would never quite be included.

"I didn't come almost until our mother and their father got married. Me and Jasper came at the same time. Rosalie and Edward didn't take a liking to me right away. But Jasper, he helped a bunch."

"And I'll help you too." I could almost hear her say out aloud.

I blinked back some tears and turned away. I was facing a large cherry wood dresser. It was decorated with old fashioned porcelain dolls. There was a blond one with Shirley Temple curls, and a brunette one with a hat.

Dolls were really creepy to me, so I looked at the file cabinet besides it.

"So who came first?" I asked casually.

"It was Edward…he's the youngest. He's been around the longest too. His mother was an actress, and I guess she got tired of him. I remember it was a big problem because he looked nothing like Carlisle. There were always questions of whether he was a…" She edged closer to me.

"…bastard."

How horrible.

"I know." She responded, seemingly reading my mind.

"He was pretty tough though. He made a way for himself. Rosalie was different. She came next, I think." She stopped, pushed me closer to her bed and shut the door.

"Rosalie was…sensitive. She was always pretty from what I heard. Her mom was famous too, like former Miss USA or something. People would only talk to her because her mom was well known or she was very good looking. She didn't know who her father was until she was twelve. She's still very angry with her mother about that."

I didn't think that when you were rich or beautiful you could have problems. It all seemed so simple. I felt bad. I could kind of understand why Rosalie acted the way she did towards me.

Kinda…

"Emmett was always with Ma. Don't tell him I said this, but he was always her baby."

She paused looking wistful. My legs were getting sore so I plopped down on her bed. She soon followed.

"So what about you?"

"Well, my dad was always on the road. Directing, or protesting something. It's not really the life a kid should live."

I was tempted to say 'Neither is having children from multiple marriages all under one roof.' but I instead said,

"You don't regret it, do you?"

She simply shook her head, and laid back. Her movements didn't waste an ounce of grace.

I hadn't had much time to think about the man that could be my father. I didn't know what he was like.

It was odd to know that each relationship—each child was like a puzzle piece to his life in different points of time. I was the latest and last to come. There might still be more, who knew?

I didn't want to think too hard about it.

"I'm sleepy now." She sounded muffled. I guess that meant she wanted me to leave. I got up and walked out, quietly closing the door behind me.

I ran into him, literally. I was heading towards my room, downstairs next to the kitchen. I'll admit I wasn't watching where I was going. I was thinking about things, and I had quite a bit to think about…

…like my father being a famous actor.

The same said man being married numerous times, with bunches of kids who hated me…and me.

Hitting hardwood floors weren't very comfortable, and neither was hitting his body. It was rock hard.

"Ouch."

"What are you doing in here?" It wasn't a question. Not a 'please tell me why you're in my house?' It was a 'Bitch why are you in my face?'

He was tall, and pale…and very handsome despite the scowling look on his face. It was Hot Guy…

"It's you! What are you doing in here?!" I blurted.

"I live here." He answered darkly.

"And last time I saw you, you were standing outside looking rather desperate. I asked you a question. It's only polite to answer it."

Okay, one thing. I wasn't desperate! I was merely disappointed with the (still very) dismal outlook of my circumstances.

Another thing, I might have ran into him, but I was going to apologize to him before he—

"Well I live here too." I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist and turned me back facing him.

"What is this?"

"What is what?" I glared at him, and a sudden realization hit me.

Pale face.

Brown eyes.

Straight nose.

I had seen this face before many times. Those were my features. That was my face only arranged more pleasingly.

He was my brother.

I thought my brother was hot. My stomached churned with the idea. This was Edward, my half brother.

"You're my brother." I didn't mean to sound so nervous or disgusted. His expression mirrored my tone.

He released my wrists and studied me much the same way Rosalie did. I knew what he was thinking.

You can't be her.

"I guess Alice was right." He said instead. He shrugged and turned away, leaving me mortified.

--

I had a dream that it was all a dream. I was back at Burnt Pine trailer park, and Pee-pop was alive. He sat in his old recliner, and I sat on the carpet under him. He stroked my head and told me,

"Your grandma and I love you, Isabella." I hugged him so hard.

Then a blond lady's head floated at me, screaming. Then I woke up.

I opened my eyes to a terrible sight. Rosalie. She stood in all her bitter glory with her bathrobe on and large orange rollers in her hair. She was pretty enough to pull it off, but it didn't make it any less funny.

It was quite hilarious. I would have laughed if I didn't fear for my livelihood.

"She isn't so bad. Just give her time to get used to you. You'll be acting like sisters in no time!"

Yeah right, Alice.

"Get up." She commanded simply.

"For what?" I yawned and wiped the drool from my mouth.

I felt so self conscious around her. How could you compete with someone who looked like they're on the cover of a magazine when they woke up?

"You may think that you can get away with mooching off my father, but I know your game. Our maid has left. Until Father comes back you're going to do the chores." She folded her arms and glowered at me.

It was a look of "I dare you to say no."

More than anything I wanted to tell her no. But she stood in the way of me and only family I possibly had left.

You always get more flies with honey, honey.

"What do you want me to do first?"

She laid a very long sheet of what looked like scripting paper on my suitcase (I hadn't unpacked yet) and grinned.

"I need you to go grocery shopping." I watched the paper slip under my suitcase, and blow towards the vent.

Was that the shopping list? It looked more like the Diner's inventory!

"I can't." I said.

"Why not?" She growled, edging closer to me.

"I left my truck down the hill. It's by the side of the road. I can't walk back and get it, and get groceries." For the first time since I've seen her, she didn't have anything to say.

Bella- 5,000

Rosalie- 0

"Edward can drive you." She said simply and smiled. Of course…why didn't I think of that?

She pushed back my sheets, exposing my bare legs to the cold air. She then swatted at them.

"You better get up. You have a lot of work to do!" She traipsed out of the room, giggling.

At that point, I was certain of two things. One, that Rosalie was evil and two that I was going to hate this place.

I groaned and fell out of bed. I kicked open my suitcase and rifled through clothes. I had nothing to wear that didn't look slum-ish…so I just threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

It wasn't like I was trying to impress anybody, right?

I stumbled down the stairs and into the living room. It was a sight straight out of a JC Penny's catalogue.

Emmett was stretched out on one of the couches kicking Rosalie, who was filing her nails and periodically turning her glare in his direction. Alice was on the adjacent couch…upside down. He legs were spread out and her bare feet were hardly reaching the top.

Edward was on the next couch brooding. Jasper was beside him, typing furiously on his laptop.

Do these people have nothing to do?!

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Emmett almost yelled. He stopped kicking Rosalie, and winked at me.

I felt my face warm up.

"Bella!"

Alice slide off the couch and practically jumped on me, almost knocking me down. She strung her arms around my neck so tight, I almost couldn't breathe.

Edward rolled his eyes. I couldn't tell if Jasper was smiling or frowning. Rosalie never looked up from her nails.

"You're…choking…me."

She released me from her vice grip, and smiled sheepishly. I thought of the words she said not too long ago. I smiled back at her.

"Isabella's going to the super-market." Rosalie said, looking directly at me. She then turned to Edward, who was eyeing her suspiciously.

"She's a little shy, so she asked me to ask you to take her. She—"

"No." Edward interrupted.

"Her car is down the hill. Just this one time. Tell him Bella."

"I would really appreciate it." I tried my hardest to not sound how I really felt. It was bad enough that I had to spend hours over a task that should take five minutes.

But to spend the entire time with my brother who wasn't only poorly socialized, but also the one whom I admitted I was attracted to.

"Fine." He sighed.

Yeah, fine.

--

The ride was very awkward, and the actual act of forcing me to go shopping was inconsequential. It was what happened after that incident that mattered.

I was stocking the refrigerator and one of the many cabinets. Edward sauntered in a few minutes after I did. He leaned against of the island counters, watching me put things up.

It made me very nervous. In fact, I dropped two cans. Luckily I was looking away from him. My face was burning for a long time.

It was quiet with the exception of the clanking of food. I headed in the direction of the pantry. He imitated the gesture he made when he first saw me inside, and grabbed my wrist.

"I want lunch." He declared.

I thought he was joking at first because well—models don't eat, right? But his stare was unblinking, and his tone was very serious.

"Well—uh—if you want, there is lunch meat in the—"

"I don't want that." He interrupted me.

I had to bite back the urge to say 'Well make whatever you want your damned self!' but recovered quickly.

"So what do you want then?" I asked slowly, so I wouldn't say what I really thought.

"Whatever you make best." He flashed me a brief dazzling smile that could've left me bed-ridden for days, and walked out.

From that point on, I had 'maid' stamped on my forehead.

And so began weeks of involuntary servitude. It was weeks of having to wash Emmett's clothes (which was disgusting, by the way). Weeks of organizing Rosalie's magazines. Weeks of shoveling food into Edward's never ending pit for a stomach.

I hated it at first. The only person who kept me from hanging myself was Alice who often helped me out.

But deep, deep down in a part of me I'd never admit to, I really liked it. It felt so good to be a part of something, a family.

Whenever Emmett laughed his loud bear-like laugh, or when Edward would quietly thank me for lunch, or even when Rosalie complained about how much sugar was in her tea…

I'd think 'This is my family.'

Which was dangerous.

Carlisle return was approaching fast. What if he wasn't my father? Would it matter if he wanted to kick me out?

What if I was so disappointing that he placed a restraining order against because I was his daughter?

"Don't worry 'bout it, Bella." Alice often told me but I couldn't help it.

One particular morning, I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I heard the door unlock. I disregarded it as Jasper coming in from whatever he did…I heard footsteps head towards the kitchen.

"Edward don't you come in here. It would be your third time eating breakfast—"

Blond hair, blue eyes. It wasn't Edward, but it wasn't Jasper. For one he was much older looking. His features didn't hold a bit of adolescence. It was a man.

It had to be Carlisle.

"fast-fast. Uh…" I didn't hear the crash. I looked down and saw pieces of plate and suds.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"No, no." He said bending down and picking up shards of glass, and soap suds. I'd only see this man in pictures, moving or not. I never would have thought I'd get close enough to count his eyelashes(figuratively, 'cause that would be creepy).

It was eerie.

"You must be the new help. I hope the kids haven't been a bother."

I was thinking of the things I could say, would say. His words were like another language to me. It took me a while to realize what he said, and then the despair set in.

"Um, actually—"

'This is the little problem I've talked to you about." Rosalie walked in, dashing as usual. She smirked at me, and turned to Carlisle.

"Father, meet your daughter Isabella. Isabella, meet your father." I knew she was mocking me, but the only thing I could find to say was,

"Just Bella. People call me Bella."

His expression was that of shock, and then it morphed in disbelief. Just like everybody else's. Did I mention the despair I was feeling?

"Young lady, I think you're mistaken." He said apologetically. Rosalie looked at him and then looked back at me with a look of feigned concern.

"You know how many people come up here, claiming to be my something-or-other? I cannot take what you say at face value. I don't have anymore children."

"But-but…" Was all I could get out. My mouth twisted, attempting to form words. I looked down, and away.

Great. What could I do now?

'She does have a birth certificate though, father." Rosalie piped up, most likely only to see me suffer. She pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him.

He read it and really looked hard at me for the first time. He was silent for a very long time. Rosalie's smug look changed into an unsure one.

"You look just like your mother." He said quietly. He closed the space between us and held my hands in his. They were so much bigger. I stood still, feeling very shocked. Speaking of shock, poor Rosalie's jaw couldn't quite collect itself.

"I never thought this day would happen. What are you cleaning for? I—"

"It's okay. I—uh—enjoy it, seriously."

"If you say so…" He looked down at his watch. "I'd better be leaving." And with that he left.

--

I was lying in my bed, dead tired and staring at wall. It was blank, and I was feeling depressingly blank. Knowing that he was my father didn't make him feel like anymore like my father. In fact I just felt sad. It brought up many questions.

Like why did he leave me to be raised by my grandparents?

He seemed like a nice guy, like more than a nice guy. Maybe it was all an act. I wasn't any less hurt.

I turned away from the wall, and into…Rosalie standing in the door way. She was hiding something behind her back. I sighed. I really didn't feel like putting up with this right now.

"Look Rosalie—"

"No you look. My father may have a soft heart, but I can spot a fraud a mile away. You can pander to him all you want, but you'll never be anything more than a house keeper. Face it. Look at me and look at you. You really think we share anything? You're no sister of mine."

"What is your problem?" I was teetering on the edge of insanity. I didn't need an extra push from an over zealous, over aggressive Amazon that was supposed to be my blood.

I rolled off of my bed and right into Rosalie's face or better yet---her chest…She pulled something shiny from behind her back.

It was orange handled, and scissors. She pointed them directly in my face. Was she going to kill me?

I heard a loud snip, and then another, and then another. Each louder, and more vicious than the other.

I looked down and saw masses of brown hair at my feet. It was my hair. I couldn't hold back the tears.

She paused, giving me an appraised look and trounced out.

Needless to say, I didn't leave my room for days. She made me even uglier out of spite. I couldn't show my face. Images of a shaved chicken came to mind.

I would cry, sleep, and cry some more. Maybe even cry in my sleep.

Emmett (unsuccessfully) tried kicking down the door, and Alice just left me plates from her favorite fast food joint. Jasper would occasionally try to coax me to come out, and came very close a few times.

I was in one of my sleeping spells when I heard my door being knocked down. I hazily checked my alarm clock.

3: 45 AM

At first nothing.

I reached over to my lamp, and turned it on. My door was wide open. I could see the kitchen lights leaking in.

I looked over, and saw…Edward…standing…in the corner of my room.

"Hey." He slurred. "I need you to do something for me."

"Do it yourself." I buried myself deeper under the covers.

"What's wrong?" His footsteps came closer and closer to my bed. He sat right over my feet, and tried to pull the cover back.

There were many things that I could say. Like…

The only people who really loved me are dead and never coming back.

I didn't even know of my father's existence until a few weeks ago.

My sister is a psycho who won't stop until I probably off myself (if she doesn't get to it first).

That my only purpose now is to cater to spoiled adults who can't seem to pull the silver spoon out of their ass.

Or maybe that the only person being nice to me here isn't even related to me.

Instead this came out.

"I can…'elp it I'v uglyyyyy!"

"You're going to have to say that a bit slower…and without the drool."

Yeah, so I was back to crying. Now in front of Edward which made me want to cry even more. After a minute of struggling he finally pulled the comforter from my head.

Don't stare at me, I'm a monster!

"You think I wanted to be born this way?! I didn't, I didn't, I didn't! I have to work twice as hard—"

"Don't you think attractive people have to work hard for their looks? We all have to put in effort. Look at me—look at me, Bella."

He reached under the comforters for my hands. He held them tight, but different than the other times. Almost affectionately. I couldn't help but look at him. His face was angelic even if his personality wasn't.

"Your hair is really cute. Go to the mirror." I sniffled, and reluctantly walked towards the vanity.

I was expecting something horrible like bald patches or for one side to be longer than the other. I didn't expect what I saw.

Instead of my hair hanging down scraggily it cupped my face symmetrically. It was ear length, but some much better looking. I didn't have split ends or anything, plus it didn't make my face look quite as long and thin.

My eyes were very red from all the crying and I was still exceptionally pale, but who knew?

I just might catch the Hollywood flu and go down to the tanning booths.

"What are you shivering about?"

"Nothing." I said and turned to him. He was now lying on my bed, almost glaring at me. I had nothing.

So is this the part where I say thank you and we be best friends forever or…

"I always wanted a little sister, you know." He said quietly gesturing me come back to bed. I walked over, and sat because lying next to my super attractive brother would be…weird for me.

I wanted to say 'Really? You don't act like it.' I couldn't bring myself to be mean, after he was so kind.

I felt something move up and down on my leg. It was soothing, pretty nice at first until I realized that it was his hand.

This is wrong! This is wrong! This is wrong! This is wrong!

"Uh…Edward? I think—" The wind was knocked out of me. He was on top of me…holding me tight in a bear hug.

"D'you love me, Bella?" He whispered in my ear.

I felt like my brain was going to implode on itself. Incest? I've reached a new low of desperation. But it wasn't me. It was him.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

What was the truth? That I did? I hardly knew him, and he was no boy scout. I realized that he called me by my name for the first time. He even called me cute.

I couldn't say no. Not after what just happened.

I managed one of my arms from under him, and touched his shoulder. Well here goes…

Wait, is he asleep?!

--

You can imagine my shock later in the morning. My hermando lying next to me in my bed shirtless.

So my god is a merciless one who enjoys tormenting me for chuckles. What's new here?

There was something new, rather someone new. I stumbled awkwardly from out of my room. I guess I had a very disturbed look on my face because Alice brought…it up.

"So Edward slept in your room."

"He didn't have clothes Alice. No clothes and he was—"

"Did you guys do anything?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"Then no big deal."

"It's not that simple—"

"I might have forgotten to bring something up. You see…Edward drinks. When he's drunk he gets very…friendly. So, it is that simple. He's not secretly lusting for you. He's just happy that he has another sister!"

"He did all that because of alcohol…?"

"Yep!"

These people had problems.

I went from disturbed to completely paranoid. What if he had too much to drink one night? How could it possibly be so simple then?

It was something to stew over during breakfast. I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I didn't see three or four hungry people. I saw one cleaning. A lady who had her back turned to me, wiping down the counter tops.

She was doing what I was supposed to do. Maybe Rosalie convinced Carlisle that I wasn't needed or that I…

No.

She turned around. She had very soft looking brown hair, and over all very soft looking features…like she was born airbrushed, or a silent screen actress. She must have been Alice's, and Emmett's mother.

"Isabella." She said, delightfully surprised. She smiled, wiped her hands on her apron and stuck one out. I shook it uneasily.

She could be a pin-up. Well, I knew where everybody except for me got their good looks from.

"Just Bella, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am. You can call me Esme—or if you even want to—mom."

She was so…nice. If I found out that my husband had a child by another woman, even if it was long before I met him, I would be very…upset.

I wasn't expecting that. Actually, I never even thought about Alice's and Emmett's mom. I was so focused on Carlisle.

I wasn't expecting anything.

"So Just Bella, I've heard you made quite a whirlwind around here."

"Not really."

"Alice adores you, and I think Edward is quite fond of you too." I felt a little zap at the mention of Edward.

"I don't think so, ma—Esme." Even a few days ago I would have believed that, but now…I don't know.

What would Pee-pop tell me to do?

She smiled like she could read my thoughts. Just like Alice…I turned away from her.

"You cook?"

"Yes ma'am." I cleared my throat. When it got dry, it wasn't a good sign.

"What can you prepare?" She asked quietly. She walked over and started rubbing my back. It didn't do much to make me feel better.

"I…can do breakfast…" Then I busted out into tears.

It was minutes of wailing, and I was quite surprised that no one (other than Esme) noticed. It was quick, loud, and quite refreshing. As soon as I was done, though, I felt almost the same.

Hopeless.

Esme decided it would be good to cook. Because cooking could dissolve any bad feels you had (a really bad pun?). Eggs, bacon, and pancakes could make my hopelessness go away…? I wished.

She didn't talk about it at all, and I was very thankful for that.

When we were done it was around ten-ish. She had to leave on a flight to Australia, and everybody (excluding Alice) had woken up.

I was alone again.

--

Author's Note: Rosalie lays it on kinda thick doesn't she? Who wouldn't though…if a sister they never knew about popped up? Speaking of that, what's up with Edward? Seems a bit…Well remember to read, read, read and review!