Thank you for reviewing! That made me so happy!

I tried to make this chapter long like the last one, but...it didn't work out. I kept coming up blank. Sorry it took so long to write, too. I've had a lot going on—plus I'm sick.

I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, nor do I own any of the characters including in this story.

-

I sat in the guest room, inspecting some books I had pulled off of Carlisle's shelf.

Most of them were dusty and faded, the covers tattered. Some part of that fascinated me, though, and intrigued me to dive into the depths of the pages.

I was reaching for a dull, blue book, when a different one caught my eyes. Newer than the others, it was a bright, vibrant red, and gold letters were emblazoned on the front. This book couldn't be more than twenty years old, at the most.

Understanding ESP, it read. Tentatively, I opened up the the front cover, my curiosity driving me.

The door bell rang.

Startled, I dropped the book, returning itself to its original state. Voices drafted up from downstairs. A new voice—new but known—made its way up to me.

Alice was here.

She drifted up the staircase, her black eyes cautious and darting around, when they landed on me.

At once, her entire face lit up, causing the whole room to turn into a ball of positive energy. "Bella!" she squealed, rushing over to me and flinging herself onto me, embracing me in a warm hug.

"Alice," I murmured. She let go, and leaned back to look at me.

After several minutes of greeting—which very well could've been an hour—we got serious, and the girly shrieks quieted down.

I sighed—how I had missed Alice, the bright little pixie who had been there for me when I needed it. All but one time, I corrected myself. But I refused to let that thought corrupt my happiness, and didn't dwell on it for too long, pushing it to the back of my mind.

Though it did concern me when I saw her eyes. Alice had never been one to let her thirst get out of control, but her eyes were unnaturally dark according to her standards.

I decided to voice the thought aloud. "Alice?" I asked, being the first one to talk after we had greeted each other.

She looked up, raising her eyebrows. "Yes?" Being so typically herself, she batted her eyelashes for effect.

"...Why are your eyes so black?" The question sounded wrong coming out of my mouth, odd and foreign. I wasn't familiar with vampire etiquette, but it sounded to me like I was being terribly rude.

Alice suddenly became completely serious, a rare look for herself. "Oh." She ran her fingers through her spiky black hair, her expression thoughtful.

"Well," she began, fidgeting with the plaid dress she wore, "I was...doing some personal research."

Her last two words intrigued me. Personal research. I had always wondered about Alice's past, even more so since the incident in Phoenix.

"Like what?" I asked, shifting my weight.

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. "Well...it turns out my full name was Mary Alice Brandon, and I was born in Biloxi, Mississippi in the year 1901."

Like an automatic impulse, my first reaction was not awe, but instead I blurted out, "That's Edward's birthday!" I felt my face burn, but my pale skin refused to let any blush escape. Except for the look I wore, no trace of embarrassment graced my features.

"Yes," she agreed, unfazed. "I was nineteen when I was turned. Physically, I'm older than him, but he's older to this way of life."

Once again, my reaction was wrong. I just nodded my head in silent confirmation, drinking in this new information. It intrigued me; I hadn't known that Alice and Edward were practically the same age.

I cocked my head to the side, fully attentive to every word that tumbled out of Alice's mouth. "Anything else?"

"Nothing really." She stopped, a twinkle in her eyes. "Though I did have a younger sister named Cynthia."

She shook her head, refusing to be sidetracked. "But that's not why I came here, Bella. The reason I came here was you."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Why?" Out of all the people in this house, why would she come see me?

She looked at me, exasperated. "Because I saw you—something went wrong! And on top of that, I got a flash of Victoria, too! What the hell happened?"

I took me a second to realize she was talking about her visions. Had I really forgotten that much? It seemed impossible, but the more I though about it, the more likely it became.

After several more seconds went by, I grasped that she was waiting for me to speak.

But I'm not ready for that! my mind protested, practically screaming at me. Just because I had opened up to Jasper didn't mean I could open up to Alice. Besides, he was an empath—he had the ability to make me spill my guts.

The vampire in front of me tapped her foot impatiently on the hard wood floor, pursing her tiny mouth together so that it was in a straight line. The completed picture almost made me laugh out loud.

Then I came back to reality. Alice was still waiting.

"Right," I began, fidgeting with a quilt on the end of my bed, decorated with bright geometric shapes. The only way, I comprehended, was to make the story as short as possible, as I did with Jasper. If she was going to be demanding, she could be demanding. That didn't mean that I was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

I put on my poker face, which I had practiced between the time in which Jasper talked to me up till now. "Victoria broke into my house. She bit me. It hurt. I'm a vampire. The end," I finished, wrapping up the past couple weeks into a few sentences.

In my whole life, I had never seen Alice shocked. Sure, maybe thrown a little off guard, but never shocked. So it was weird to put two and two together.

Unnerved, I glanced away and started combing my fingers through my knotted hair. Alice's cold white hand shot out and grabbed it, slowly pulling it down. I didn't resist—the action made me curious.

"Bella," she said in a far-off voice. I cocked my head to the side.

She turned towards me; her pale lips were trembling in the slightest. "Victoria?" she asked, waiting for my acknowledgement, which I gave her in a single nod.

Her eyes cleared up, the glaze retreating. They searched my face, trying to find something that gave her proof that I was lying. When they didn't find any, she looked away, heaving a sigh.

"But why you?" she murmured to herself, trying to understand. I almost put my hand on her shoulder, but I jerked it back at the last second, reminding myself that this would unnerve her, reminding her that I wasn't the warm, human Bella anymore.

Like it had so often in the past two weeks, time dragged on slowly. These were bittersweet moments, telling me that though I was with Alice again, things weren't the same. They wouldn't ever be that way again.

-

Alice came to accept me for what I was now, though I could see the hurt in her eyes every time she looked at me. A new whole was forming in my chest—one that was telling me I could never truly be accepted.

It hurt.

One day, as Alice was doing my hair in the large bathroom that was never used, a strange memory came across me, human and clouded.

A weak smile touched my lips, quickly replaced by a neutral mask. I was afraid Alice had seen.

She went on curling my stubborn hair, not seeming like she saw. But this was Alice, and I never could tell. I had learned in the months I was with the Cullens that Alice was a good actress. A very, very good actress. This partially scared me.

How much did she know? How much had she seen without me knowing?

I was quite sure she had had several visions in the past week that she had stayed here, but she hadn't told me any of them. She hid them extraordinarily well.

Alice avoided anything near the subject, too. Any time I had come into her room, she would babble on to me about how she planned to go back to her birthplace, and how her anniversary with Jasper was coming up.

She let out a low growl, mumbling something under her breath about my hair not curling. Several empty cans of hairspray sat on the marble countertop, and she placed another down.

"I swear, Bella," she hissed, struggling with my hair, "your hair is the most un-curling I have ever seen. And I've seen a lot."

Alice let go of my hair, relieving it. "I'll come back to it," she assured me, her mouth suddenly full of bobby pins.

She darted around me, opening up the makeup bag. I groaned, a low whimper escaping my quivering lips. "Not the makeup, Alice. I told you—I don't need makeup. I'm fine the way I am."

Alice grinned brightly, and patted me on the head, simply saying, "You'll thank me." I doubted it.

I slumped down on the wooden stool as she bent in front of me. Commanding me to look up, she applied the wet mascara gently to my eyelashes. I hated the way I could feel them clumping together.

Her orders went on for half an hour, until my whole face was covered with unnatural beauty. I had to admit, I did like the way my face seemed to glow. But, Alice had decorated my eyes so that the crimson irises were the highlight of my face.

"Thank you, Alice," I said politely, although inside I was groaning. Did she have to make my eyes look like that? Could it be anymore conspicuous?

"Oh, I'm not done yet." I stayed quiet and obedient as she gave me a hairwash, keeping to myself.

But I couldn't stop myself from remembering the haunting crimson eyes that stared back at me. My eyes.