Carlisle had been gone for five hours, and I was beginning to get nervous. Esme and Rosalie had run out of clothes and had begun talking, Esme explaining the details of how we lived, and Rosalie asking questions. It had started out calmly at first. Esme had told her all of our stories – with parts edited out, of course- and Rosalie had told Esme some things about her own family.

But as time went on, Rosalie was getting thirstier and more irritable. She kept trying to get Esme to tell her how long it would be until she would be allowed to return home. Esme was carefully avoiding the subject and doing her best to distract Rosalie from her growing thirst.

Edward, we're going to have to take her back out soon. I wonder what's keeping Carlisle?

"Just wait a bit longer," I murmured from downstairs. If he didn't come back soon, we would have to take her hunting without him. Esme and I were strong enough to subdue Rosalie if she got wild, but it didn't mean we wouldn't get bitten.

Twenty minutes later, I was relieved to hear Carlisle thinking my name.

Edward! Can you hear me? I'm a mile to the northeast. Could you please bring me a change of clothes and a match?

I smiled and ran upstairs to his and Esme's room. Thankfully, Rosalie was still angry at me, and she didn't turn around to see what I was doing as I quickly pulled some clothes out of Carlisle's bureau. Esme saw me, however, and nodded slightly to me.

Go ahead, I'll be fine for a bit.

I ran back down and out through the kitchen door, grabbing a book of matches on the way out.

I found him waiting by a bubbling stream. As I walked up, the stench of ash and death hit my nose. I grimaced, holding my face away as I handed him the clothes.

"It's done," he said grimly. "Rosalie Hale is dead." He stripped and jumped into the stream, using a handful of leaves to scrub the smell out of his skin and hair. While he was washing I scraped at the grass, creating a clean spot of soil. I piled his tainted clothes on the spot and lit them on fire.

"Are you going to tell her?" I asked as we began walking back to the house.

"Soon. It might be best to let her calm down for a few days first. So, did I miss anything?"

"Not unless you were hoping to see a fashion show."

He laughed. "It's going to be quite different, having two ladies in the house! I suppose it will take some getting used to."

I stopped walking. "You really think she'll want to stay with us?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Carlisle, she's…" I didn't want to be impolite. How should I put it? "She's not like Esme. She's a very self-centered creature, and her thoughts aren't entirely kind toward us. But for the most part, all she thinks about is her own appearance. She has one of the most shallow minds I've ever encountered."

He raised an eyebrow. "And this disqualifies her from joining our family?"

"No, of course not. I just think she might want to go her own way."

"You mean you hope she will," he said drily.

I just shrugged.

"Give her a chance, Edward. I'm sure you remember how difficult your first weeks were. She needs a family to stand by her, whether or not she ultimately chooses to stay with us." He suddenly switched to reviewing surgical procedures in his mind, reciting the instructions in various languages.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. Let's go. I don't want to leave Esme alone with her too long." He started running and I flew by him, reaching the house five seconds before he did.

"That's not fair," he laughed as leapt up onto the porch. "You didn't use your handicap!"

I smirked back at him over my shoulder. "Serves you right for blocking me out. Keep your mysteries, then." I headed into the house, calling for Esme.

Edward, thank God you're back! She's going to lose it any minute.

I flew up the stairs, Carlisle on my heels. Esme had her arms gently wrapped around Rosalie, who was trembling. She had shadows under her black eyes. "I don't want to hunt animals!" she was repeating over and over. "Why do I want human blood? I don't want to be a monster!"

"You're not a monster," Esme soothed. "It's just harder at first. Things will get easier, you'll see. Look, Carlisle and Edward are home! Let's all go hunting again."

Rosalie nodded, standing up. She followed us silently into the forest and cried out in pain when she caught the scent of a fox nearby. But it wasn't enough; it only made her angrier. We kept searching and finally caught up with a pair of black bears. Rosalie fed happily and she was soon herself again. Carlisle showed her how to find the best place to hide her kills, and after she had disposed of them, she sighed in satisfaction, straightening her dress. Oh! What a mess, she fretted as she saw the blood on her wrinkled skirt. I'm going to run through all her clothes in a week at this rate.

"I don't suppose you'd take me shopping?" she asked Esme. "I'm not thirsty now- I'm sure I could handle it."

"I don't think that would work," Esme said kindly. "But I've got a better idea." She took Rosalie's hand and they began running back toward the house, leaving Carlisle and I standing alone.

"Like I said," Carlisle sighed, "It will take some getting used to."

"You've got that right."

"Well, son, I've got the rest of the week off. I don't see why you can't return to your classes tomorrow."

I grimaced. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Royce King is-"

"That won't be a problem."

"What?"

"I took care of it."

I eyed him curiously, but he pulled a pamphlet out of his vest pocket, distracting me.

"What's that?"

He smiled, showing his teeth as he tossed me the papers. "Bus schedule."

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When I got to school the next day, the rumors were already flying. Royce King had run away. Royce King had been murdered. Royce King had joined the army. Royce King had married a princess from Eastern Europe. Everybody had a theory of why the millionaire playboy of upstate New York had suddenly withdrawn from school, and I eagerly awaited English class to see if he was really gone.

They were all gone. The whole class was abuzz when they realized that Royce's three best friends were missing, as well. I smiled as I listened to the new theories forming in the minds around me. When David White walked in quietly, I paid close attention to his thoughts, knowing he was another friend of Royce's. Sure enough, he was anxiously hoping that nobody would ask him what had happened. He took the seat beside me, thinking that the quiet Cullen boy would be the safest person to sit next to today.

I waited impatiently for David to think something useful, but he so nervous he was actually paying attention to the lecture today. Finally, I nudged him while the professor's back was turned. "So, I heard Royce joined the army. A real hero, huh?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he said nervously, licking his lips. "A hero." Hero, my foot. He's probably still hiding under his bed. I thought he was joking, when he said I had to come over right away. I didn't think anybody got death threats in real life. And he's such an IDIOT! I practically had to tear the note out of his hands, or he would've given it right to that policemen a minute later. He would never have thought to invent the story of the death threat coming by phone by himself. Idiot.

My eyes widened as I saw the note in David's memory. Although Carlisle had disguised his penmanship, I wasn't fooled.

I know what you did to her on Friday night. You and your friends are going to pay for what you did, and we're going to come for you when you're all together… when you least expect it. Judgment day is coming.

I almost laughed out loud when I saw the real kicker: Carlisle had written it on University of Rochester letterhead. No doubt Royce believed that the threat had come from one of his professors or fellow students, and they were all surely terrified of coming anywhere near the campus. It was perfect.

I relaxed down into my seat, smiling. It looked like Royce King wasn't going to give us any more trouble.

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The next two weeks passed rather slowly. Carlisle went back to work on the night shift so that he could be home with the women while I was at school. I had a lot of time to think, what with my not being allowed to read, and with the long walks to the bus stop. And then, the bus rides themselves- disgusting. It was bad enough being cooped up with thirty-odd minds thinking about how much they didn't want to go to work. But the smells! There was stale coffee, cigarette smoke, body odor, dog hair on people's coats, and the putrid smell of their lunches sitting on the seats besides them. Being in such an enclosed place with so many smells- not to mention the teasing aroma of the humans' blood- was exactly the punishment that Carlisle had meant it to be. By the end of the second week, I was considering walking the next time. Of course, Carlisle had ruined that, too, and I would have to really walk all the way into town. It would take more hours out of the day, but at least I could have more time away from Rosalie.

It wasn't that she was hostile, or even that difficult to manage. She had continued to impress us with her relative calm, so unusual in a newborn. No, she was just annoying. Esme had gotten several bolts of various fabrics and was having the time of her life making clothes for her new life-size doll, but that didn't keep Rosalie out of my hair nearly enough. Depending on her volatile moods, she either paced or moped around the house, refusing to do anything other than watch us or complain. Esme tried to get her interested in the sewing, but that hadn't gone over too well. Carlisle had provided her with all kinds of books, but that didn't pique her interest. I offered to give her piano lessons, but she just laughed at me.

That Saturday afternoon, I was cleaning the floors for Esme, since she was still sewing furiously upstairs. Rosalie was lounging on the new couch in one of her new sundresses, watching everything I did. Finally I turned on her in exasperation.

"Why don't you go find something useful to do?" I growled.

Rosalie blew out a puff of air, making the hair near her face flutter about. "It's not like there's anything to do, Edward. Don't you people ever go anywhere?"

"Are you thirsty?"

She sat up. "No, not that! I mean go out. You know, parties, go see a band in the park, go to the pictures… is any of this ringing a bell?"

"Ah, you mean socializing."

She threw herself back into the cushions, sighing again. "Yes."

"Rose, you know that we can't-"

"Stop it!" she snapped.

"What?"

"Don't ever call me that." Royce called me that.

"Oh… I'm sorry, Rosalie. I didn't know."

The silence was made more awkward by the human memories Rosalie was trying to pull into focus. She was trying to remember what it felt like to be the center of attention at a gala that one of her friends had thrown for her last birthday. The more she tried to grab onto the memory, the more it slipped away, and she was growing angry. Why did she do this to herself?

"All right, come on. Let's get you out of the house," I said gruffly, putting the mop away.

She brightened and flew to my side. "You mean it? I can be around people now?"

I winced. I hadn't meant to get her hopes up. "No, but I want to show you something, if you can promise to keep a secret."

Her eyes sparkled as she nodded, and for just a second, she was beautiful again.

"Rosalie and I are heading out for a bit, but we won't be far," I called to my parents upstairs. Carlisle acknowledged me mentally.

I took her out to the greenhouse. As I pulled the tarpaulin away, she smiled. "It's beautiful. You made it yourself?"

I nodded, pleased that she was impressed.

She walked slowly around the small building and reached out to touch the vines I had sculpted onto the trellis. "This is lovely."

It seemed that Rosalie appreciated beauty, even when it wasn't her own. I demonstrated how I had made the sculpture, and she settled down on the grass to watch me while I worked on the rest of the greenhouse. I spent the next few hours painting and chatting occasionally with my sister- this was how I was beginning to think of her. Annoying or not, she was always there. It wasn't so bad this time. I talked as I worked, telling her about some of Carlisle's adventures back in the 1800's, my studies at the university, and some of the projects that Esme had done in our house so far.

"Why are you working so slowly?" she asked suddenly. "Couldn't you have finished the whole thing in one day?"

"I like working at human speed sometimes," I explained as I began sanding some of the shelves. "For one thing, it gives me more satisfaction when a job takes longer to complete. But also, it gives more inspiration. If I had rushed through this, I wouldn't have had some of the ideas for the extra little touches. The vines, for example, and the bird house." I had built a tiny house onto one of the windows, with the window pane forming the back wall. "Esme had always enjoyed watching birds, but they are naturally frightened by her scent. This way, she'll be able to stand inside the greenhouse and watch whatever creatures decide to make the house their home, without scaring them. And these..." I showed her some of the tiny seed drawers that I had installed. "I suppose it would have been quicker and more utilitarian to make larger drawers, or just shelves. But I decided to take the time to do it this way instead."

"So, this is all for Esme, then?"

"Yes, it's a gift for Mother's Day- that's the secret I was talking about." I looked up, hoping she would nod, or wink conspiratorially, or something.

But she was frozen stiff, staring ahead at nothing. Without my gift, I would have thought she was bored. But she was thinking of her own mother, and how she wouldn't be able to give her roses on Mother's Day, like she always had. She was wondering how long it would be until she could talk to her mother again, wishing she could lay her head on her lap and cry her eyes out, telling her all about the vampire nightmare that she had just woken from.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. She slowly came back to the present, and looked up at me. I already have a mother, Edward. She's waiting for me to come home. I'm not supposed to be here.

"I'm sorry," I said again, uncomfortably. What else was I supposed to say? I'm sorry that my father decided to bite you, instead of letting you die? I'm sorry that you're stuck with such boring vampires? I turned away from her and worked in silence. I decided to begin painting a delicate floral pattern on the seed drawers, and Rosalie watched me as she sat there, frozen. I had no idea how to handle this new mood of hers, and I was grateful for the glass wall between us.

We didn't speak again for the rest of the afternoon.

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.

.

Rosalie was still silent, thinking about her mother as we were all sitting in the living room together that evening. Carlisle had run into town for a newspaper, and he was reading the article about the police finding Rosalie Hale's body the week before. We had burned Rosalie's old clothes, but Carlisle had kept aside her jacket and the engagement ring she had been wearing. This had been enough for the police to indentify the girl that had tragically burned to death inside an abandoned fishing hut. They supposed she had gotten lost down by the river, and had taken shelter against some storm in there, foolishly trying to light an old oil lamp to keep warm.

I sighed aloud as I read along with him, and he peered at me over the edge of the newspaper. I know, son. I'll tell her soon. After her next hunt, when she's at her calmest. I nodded in agreement.

Rosalie suddenly sat up straight. "I just had the best idea!" she announced. "Even if I can't see my family anytime soon, maybe I could write to them. We could make up a story about how I was nervous about the wedding, and how I just needed some time on my own- what?"

Carlisle and I were staring guiltily at each other, and Esme reached over to rub Rosalie's shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said quietly, "but that's just not possible."

"Why not? We don't need to tell them that I'm nearby. My mother must be frantic by now, and my little brothers..."

Carlisle put the newspaper aside, and leaned forward in his chair. "Rosalie, I need to tell you something that will be difficult for you to hear. Please understand that we're doing everything we can to help you."

Rosalie shrank back into Esme's arms, waiting fearfully for him to speak again.

"It wasn't possible to let the police keep searching for you," Carlisle explained gently. "They would've gotten out here eventually, and your picture would have been circulating everywhere. That would make it very difficult for you to be seen in public. People might recognize you, even twenty years from now, even in other states. So, I did the only thing I could do, Rosalie… I let them think you had died."

"I don't understand," she said slowly. "I'm sitting right here. My body-"

"I found a body similar to yours in the hospital's morgue, and I used your old jacket and ring. I staged an accident, and they believed what I intended for them to believe. Your family believes that you are gone now. It's easier for them this way, and better for you. You can be more free this way."

"They think I'm… dead?" Rosalie's hands were trembling and she began sucking in gulps of air, as if she couldn't get enough of it. "But…" I was going to go home. It was all going to be all right. How could he do this to me? He had no right!

"I know it's very difficult to accept," I said. "But it really is better this way. And you'll never be alone, if you don't want to. We can be your family. Esme and Carlisle are the best parents in the world, and I-"

She stood up, her eyes burning. "I already have a mother," she said in a quivering voice. She looked around at our family for another moment, her shock turning to anger as her eyes rested on Carlisle. "This isn't my family. I already have a family, and you're taking them away from me!" Suddenly she sprinted out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Esme shot to her feet. "We've got to stop her! She'll go to the city! Carlisle!"

"I'm the only one that can catch her," I sighed as I ran out into the rain.

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But Rosalie wasn't headed toward the city. I easily tracked her scent and her wild thoughts through the woods, skidding to a stop when I heard a strange metallic noise contrasting against the thunder. I closed the remaining distance in less than ten seconds, roaring in anger when I found her.

She was destroying the greenhouse.

In the few seconds before I had arrived, she had already torn apart most of the wood structure, and now she was using one of the iron rods to crush the vine trellis, beating in into a twisted pile of garbage. I attacked her from behind, yanking the rod out of her hands and shoving her into the dirt as I yelled at her. "What do you think you're doing?! I've never hit a woman before, Rosalie, but so help me-"

"I ALREADY HAVE A MOTHER!" she screamed into the ground. She scrambled to her feet and hissed at me, swiping with a clawed hand. I leapt back just in time. She slipped on the wet ground and crashed down onto her knees, weeping.

"I already have a mother," she choked out again. "She thinks I'm dead. I wish I was dead. I'm supposed to be dead. Why didn't he just let me die?" Her whole body shook with her dry sobs. I sat down beside her in the mud, awkwardly pulling her into my arms. She buried her face in my shoulder and I held her, patting her hair as she cried hysterically, begging me to kill her. The storm raged on around us, its rain giving my sister the tears she so desperately ached to shed.