When Madelaine woke up to the soft tones of her alarm, her father was downstairs. The low roar of a bubbling coffee pot was amplified in the quiet morning. She stretched and yawned her way into the kitchen.
"Morning, Mads," Charlie said. "Up early?"
"Yeah," Madelaine slumped over in a chair. She pressed the heels of her palm against her eyes, willing the sleepiness to leave her body. "I was wondering if I could have a lift into town this morning?"
Charlie frowned over a steaming cup of coffee. He was already dressed in his uniform and had a plate of toast resting on the counter beside him.
"I need to go to the library before class."
"Homework?"
Madelaine sighed. "No, there was an accident at school and—"
"Accident?" Charlie asked, suddenly alert.
She raised a hand as if to say down boy. "I'm fine, it was just a stray snowball. But I dropped my book and it's water damaged. I need to go in and talk to Quinton about paying for the replacement."
Charlie's expression softened. "Oh, sure. Need money?"
She shook her head, thinking of the bills she'd found tucked in the shoe box under her bed. "I've got some. Thanks, Dad."
He smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and walked back towards his room. "We'll leave in twenty minutes, leave a note for Bella."
Madelaine saluted mockingly and scribbled on a notepad: Morning, I've gone with Dad — going to pay my dues at the library. See you at school!
She pushed it away, glancing up at the window. The sky was lighter than usual and the roads could be deceiving. She pulled the paper back and added: Road is extra icy today — stay safe.
Madelaine figured an 'x ' or a 'love you' would be pushing it, so she signed off with a beady eyed smiley face. Satisfied, she tucked the note under the apple Bella would grab for her breakfast and ducked back upstairs to get ready.
Outside the air was clear and the ground was lined with snow and deadly ice. Charlie took Madelaine's elbow in hand as they went down the steps.
"Put chains on the truck and cruiser earlier." Charlie said gruffly as they clambered into the cruiser. "Going to be busy today."
Madelaine murmured her agreement. Whenever the road was icy, the police department would become bustling with road incidents. La Push Rd. in particular was prone to accidents, there something about the swerving road and claustrophobic atmosphere of towering trees that beckoned danger.
The journey was short, as most drives in Forks were. Charlie drove with the confidence of a man who knew and respected the road—Madelaine could only hope to be half as collected as him. He pulled into the space nearest the library. The cruiser idled, it was silent compared to Bella's truck.
"Want me to come?"
"I'll be fine, thanks for the lift."
The footpath was just as icy as their driveway. Madelaine inched along. The ruined book was small enough to fit in the depths of her coat pocket.
Charlie didn't pull away until Madelaine's fist was knocking on the library door. She waved to him while she waited for Quinton.
Quinton had grown up with Charlie. He had a full head of grey curling hair and a dash of freckles arching across his cheeks and nose. He was a kind man, always smiling and pottering about the library. He worked mostly alone with part-time help from Mary Morgan, an almost retired woman who walked with a striped cane and a perpetual scowl.
"Mornin', Miss Swan." Quinton called, voice loud in the quiet morning. "What brings you here so early?"
Madelaine fidgeted, smiling. "Nothing good, actually. I fell at school yesterday and a book I borrowed got water damaged. I wanted to come in to arrange a replacement."
Quinton dipped his head. He didn't look as offended as Madelaine had imagined. Then again, she had pictured steam billowing from his ears. "Do you have the book?"
Madelaine held it out. The librarian took it gently and inspected the pages. The last quarter of the book was the most affected part; the small cluster of pages were dimpled. The print was still legible.
"—hmm, there's no tearing, and the ink is alright. I don't think I'll need to buy a replacement."
"Are you sure? I have no problem paying, it was my fault."
"Had this book for almost eight years and it's only been rented twice," Quinton said with a crooked smile. "It won't be missed. Thank you for coming in though."
Madelaine hesitated. Her eyebrows pinched into a frown. "...Can I at least make a donation or something? I feel bad just not paying."
Quinton simply laughed, "You're a sweet girl, Miss Swan. I won't stop you from making a donation, but your patronage is payment enough."
With half an hour before her first class and money in her pocket, Madelaine headed to the nearest cafe. She didn't grab anything at home and her stomach was starting to rumble.
As she drank hot chocolate, sitting with her back to the heater, Madelaine's head ached suddenly; like a fist rapped against her skull. The feeling echoed. She clenched her fists and waited for the pain to numb itself, allowing her mind to think again.
She grumbled under her breath and fetched one of the painkillers she now kept in her bag. Distantly, she knew it was against school policy to carry painkillers, but she doubted the school nurse would give them to her daily. Not without a doctor's permission, at least.
The thudding floated away, until a quiet pulse remained. She closed her eyes and rested. She held the drink in her hands, leaving her fingers as blissfully warm as her back.
Minutes passed slowly—the coffee machine and customers ordering at the counter was all Madelaine could hear—until an ambulance drove by, sirens slashing through the still streets.
Madelaine fidgeted as she focused on the sound. No doubt her father would be called onto the scene. She took a deep drink, savouring the feel of heated ceramic against her lips and closed her eyes again.
The sirens faded but the ache remained.
With breakfast finished and her first class looming, Madelaine made her way to school. One of the benefits of living in a small town was the familiarity. No matter how far away her mind was, it was impossible to get lost.
It was easy: walk south, turn left, turn right, walk south, destination reached. Her time in cities was spent staring up at the towering buildings and wondering when they would consume her. It was nauseating.
At least cities have well stocked libraries, Madelaine could almost hear Bella saying.
When she got to the gates of school, taking the shrouded path that led to Mrs Cope's office, Madelaine glanced over the neck high hedges. The car park was deserted. She paused, then checked her watch.
She still had ten minutes before class.
The curious little detective that resided in the back of her mind pushed her forward.
Mr Varner and Coach Clapp were sweeping the area around a blue van. Madelaine could barely see its shattered window. It was parked strangely, too, dropped right in front of another car. The path where Madelaine stood was elevated, a dozen stairs descending, but she could just see over the van. Nothing more than a glimpse of dull red.
She frowned, eyes scanning over the rest of the cars in the lot. Today must have been a day for skipping; there couldn't be more than thirty cars scattered around. She had never paid attention to makes and models, but she knew colours well. Dark blue, silver, and black. In Madelaine's memory, they blurred together, boring and unimportant. The Cullen's bright red sports car was an oddity, as was Bella's lumbering truck.
Her red truck.
The blue van.
The peek of faded red.
The eerily empty lot.
The wail of sirens headed south.
Madelaine dropped her books for the second time in as many days.
"Madelaine!" An unfamiliar voice called. The approaching footsteps were heavy and fast. The voice was breathy, "There you are!"
"Where's Bella?" Madelaine asked, attention locked on the blue van.
"At the hospital. They left like, five minutes ago." Madelaine dragged her eyes over. It was Eric. She recognised him from Bella's lunch table. His face was washed with worry, but he gave her a tentative smile.
"Tyler crashed into Bella's truck. Bella hit her head, but I'm pretty sure it's not serious. She was awake and everything. Only a tiny bit of blood! Tyler's worse, but then he hit her so maybe it's karma. Oh man—that's awful to say. Sorry."
Madelaine seemed incapable of looking away. With her heartbeat rushing against her ears, she could do nothing but stare and listen.
"It was definitely an accident; it's the ice, you know. But they'll be fine. Edward Cullen was there too. I didn't see it, but that's what everyone else is saying. Angela went to the hospital. Honestly, a lot of people did. I should have, this'll be a good story. But uh..."
Madelaine didn't often find comfort in other people's ramblings, but Eric's chatter was soothing. He bent down to pick up Madelaine's lost armful of books.
"Chief Swan was here. He went to the hospital. He was real worried, so I told him I'd bring you to the hospital. If you want to go, obviously..." His dark eyes became concerned. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine."
She didn't feel fine. The headache she'd chased away was back; settling at the base of her skull. Her fingers were shaking and she felt like her mind was lagging ten feet behind her body.
"Do you want to sit down?"
Eric placed a hand on Madelaine's arm, just above her elbow. It was a cautious action; as if he was ready to catch her. Suddenly, Madelaine's mind and body snapped to their rightful position and she could feel again.
"Let's go."
As they walked to his car, Eric was a step behind Madelaine. His brow furrowed. He opened the door for her. He turned the heater up and the radio down.
The drive was quiet. Madelaine didn't know how to feel about it. Her ears were ringing.
