Disclaimer: The great Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I'm just using her amazing characters to tell you a story.

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Chapter 9

BPOV

"What has you so upset, Miss Bella?"

Mrs. Jones' voice made me jump and almost fall off the dock. I didn't know why I was so upset after receiving the answer I had expected. I just wished it could have been different.

"Father said no…again," I answered as I picked up another rock and threw it into the lake.

"You know he is not going to take you home any sooner, child. Why must you continue asking?" she asked me.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I don't like it here and I want to go home." I pouted.

Her chuckling only served to make me more upset and I picked up another rock to throw. Just as my arm came down, I saw her sitting next to me with her dress caught under her legs.

"You mean you want to go home to Mr. Edward." She spoke with confidence.

I peeked at her from the corner of my eye and she was giving me that knowing look. I hated that look because it meant she knew what I didn't want to say.

"It has been four weeks and I miss him so much. Why does Father not see that?" My eyes were beginning to tear. "Why does he make me stay here when all I want is to be with Edward?"

"Miss Bella, we will be home in two weeks and your father wants time with you while you are still his to care for." She pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "Three weeks from today, Mr. Edward is going to marry you and your father is frightened that he will be losing his little girl."

Mrs. Jones gave me the same argument every time I got angry with my father for making me come here. His fear was irrational. Edward and I were only getting married, not running away where we would never be seen or heard from again. So what if I was going to be living in a different house, we would still visit our parents and my father would have me with him then.

Knowing I was going to hear the same lecture from her that I had been hearing for the past two weeks when this same issue came up, I decided to forget it. I lay back on the dock, looking up at the sky and thinking about Edward for the hundredth time this hour.

"Mrs. Jones, what do you think he's doing right now," I asked dreamily.

She chuckled again. "If I know that boy, he is in his room right now thinking of you."

"Do you really think so?" I asked, never taking my eyes off the clouds.

"Miss Bella, that boy has been thinking of you since the two of you were babies. He will not be stopping now just because you aren't near him."

A smile grew on my face as I thought of Edward lying in his bed, ankles crossed, hands linked together under his head, hopefully with a smile on his face while he thought about me. I rolled my head to the side to see Mrs. Jones.

"I just wish he knew how much I love him and how much I want to be with him right now." I sighed.

"He knows, Miss Bella." Her grin crossed her entire face. "He knows because he loves you just as much."

Just the thought made me giggle hysterically. I knew Edward loved me, no confirmation was ever needed. But sometimes I got the feeling that something was going to happen to ruin our happiness and I just had to hear that he loved me before those feelings would go away. A push to my leg refocused my attention.

"Come now, Miss Bella. It's time to go make supper before we have to hear your father grumbling." We both laughed and got to our feet to make our way back to the house.

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The next several days passed just as the last four and a half weeks had…dull and uneventful. My parents and I spent time together and I tried so hard to be happy about it and be the good daughter they wanted me to be. It was hard but I managed to pull it off during the day when we were together.

It was at night while I was lying in bed that my thoughts of Edward crashed down on me, making me cry. I missed him more than I thought possible and clutched the picture of us to my chest, hoping to feel closer to him. It worked for a while but tonight was so much harder to get through than any other.

My mind was racing and I wasn't able to rid myself of the feeling of dread spreading through my body. There was nothing to worry about and I would be going home in nine days. Maybe I was simply anxious to get back to Edward and every day we spent apart was taking its toll on my mind and body.

I rolled over, placing the picture frame on the mattress so I could see him. Just as I did every night, I whispered my goodnight to his image and closed my eyes to sleep.

The next morning I groaned as Mrs. Jones shook my shoulder to wake me. The touch hurt and sent a sharp pain straight to my chest.

"Oh goodness, Miss Bella, your skin feels like it's on fire." She touched my forehead. "Lie still for a moment. I'll return in a second."

She left me in bed and rushed out of the room. I rolled over and the movement made my entire body hurt. No illness had ever left me in such pain before. I couldn't do anything but cry. Soon Mrs. Jones was back at my bedside with my mother sitting right next to her. One had a cold cloth to my face while the other was running another down my arms and legs.

"You're burning up, Isabella," my mother said. "We need to bring your temperature down. Your father is drawing a cold bath right now."

I nodded and groaned as they touched and lifted every part of my body. It hurt so much that I wanted to scream but I knew that would worry all of them. So I kept quiet and prayed. I prayed for either the pain to stop or I prayed for death because there was no way dying could be this painful.

My father showed up minutes later, lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bathroom. He sat me down on the toilet and left the room so my mother and Mrs. Jones could undress me and help me into the tub. I screamed as the frigid water touched my skin and I tried to jump back out. Mrs. Jones caught me and held me to her chest as she eased me into the water.

A cold bath was one thing, but a cold bath filled with ice cubes is more than any person should have to endure. My teeth were chattering in seconds and my arms were wrapped around my body to keep warm. My mother pulled my hands free, held my head and slowly leaned me back so I was fully submersed in the water up to my hairline. She dipped her hand in the water then touched her hand to my cheeks and forehead to cool down my face.

My father knocked on the door several times to see how I was doing and Mrs. Jones spoke to him each time, telling him I was okay. The final time he came to the door, he announced that it had been five minutes and that they needed to take me back to bed.

At my father's word, my mother helped me out of the tub and dried me off. Mrs. Jones held out my nightgown for me to slip into, and when I was dressed my mother rolled my hair into a tight bun and helped me back to bed.

"Can you leave us alone for a moment?" I heard my father's voice.

Both my mother and Mrs. Jones kissed my forehead and walked out of the room. My father sat on the side of my bed and touched the back of his hand to my forehead. His face was troubled and I felt bad for his pain.

"I am so sorry, Isabella. I should have taken you home when you asked." His hand rested on my cheek. "If we had stayed home, this wouldn't have happened. This is my fault."

"No Daddy," I used the name I called him when I was little, "I'm just sick. It's not your fault."

"At least at home I would be able to take you to the hospital. I never expected this and we're too far from everything for help to arrive in time. I will make sure you're taken care of, Isabella. We will make you better; that is a promise."

His voice left no doubt that he would do everything in his power to bring me back to health. I closed my eyes to take a breath and smiled when I opened them again.

"I know you will, Daddy. You have always made me better when I'm sick."

We talked for another minute before he told me to get some sleep. Before he left, he surprised me by taking the picture frame off the night table and placing it next to me on the bed. I looked at the picture and back to him, confused.

"You need him." He grinned. "You've always needed him. Sleep now, sweetheart," he whispered before he kissed my forehead and walked out my door.

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Every four hours for the next two days, Mrs. Jones would wake me up just before my father carried me to the bathroom for another ice cold bath. I didn't know how much more I could take and no matter what they did or how many baths I took, it couldn't take the pain away. My whole body hurt; hurt to touch, hurt to move and I just wanted it to stop.

I was awake when Mrs. Jones came in for the last time that night. She touched her hand to my forehead like always and her eyes grew wide.

"I'll be right back," she said before hurrying out of the room.

I closed my eyes and waited for her to come back. A minute later, she came in with my mother and father right behind her.

"Please just check," Mrs. Jones said frantically.

Her attitude was causing me to worry and I started to get scared. My mother touched my forehead first and then my father did. They looked at each other and smiled. My mother hugged me tightly, but it was my father who spoke.

"Thank you, Lord." He grabbed my hand and focused on me. "Your fever broke, sweetheart. You are going to be just fine."

They both hugged me tightly and I fought so hard not to scream from the pain it caused me, every touch was a shot to the heart. My eyes were watering and the pain became too much.

"Stop please," I choked out my plea.

"Oh honey, I am so sorry," my mother said as she let me go and my father followed.

"It's late and I'm tired and I would love to go back to sleep."

"Okay sweetheart," my father kissed my forehead. "We will see you in the morning. Goodnight."

When they left, I cried into my pillow until I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up feeling slightly better. The pain was leaving me a little and I was able to move on my own again. I got out of bed and, with Mrs. Jones' help, bathed, dressed and made my way into the kitchen to eat breakfast with my family.

I hadn't eaten much in the past couple of days and was hungry. We had a nice breakfast and when we were done, my parents left me in the living room to read quietly. I spent most of the day on the couch with my book, only taking a break for lunch.

When it came time for Mrs. Jones to prepare supper, I asked to help. I wanted to get back to normal even if I didn't have all my strength back yet. Mrs. Jones asked if I had felt well enough to help and I gave her a very determined yes.

The pain had been receding rapidly throughout the day so I felt well enough to stand for all the preparations. We worked side by side for about thirty minutes and I was placing the last pot on the stove when I felt the worst pain of my life.

I clutched at my chest where it felt like someone was ripping my heart out of my body. The pot I was holding hit the floor before I did, catching Mrs. Jones' attention. I was curled in a ball on the floor, crying harder than ever when I felt her hands on me.

"Miss Bella!"

I heard her scream and I heard footsteps pounding on the floor before I fainted from the pain.

~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~

The rise and fall of the sun marked the passing of time, but I was numb to all of it. No, not numb…dead. I felt dead inside and I had no desire to move, to speak or to eat. I saw every concerned look and heard every pained word that came from my parents and Mrs. Jones as they tried to ask if I was all right, but the will to answer was not there.

As the sun rose to mark the beginning of a new day, I heard my parents talking somewhere behind me. I didn't care enough to acknowledge them but I listened to their conversation. My father's gruff voice was the first one I heard.

"Everything is ready. I need the two of you to dress her so we may leave. I cannot take this anymore. We need to get her to a hospital. She needs treatment soon or I fear the worst may come of this." His voice was laced with concern.

I offered no help as they lifted my lifeless body, slipped off my nightgown and slipped on a dress. Mrs. Jones fussed with my hair while my mother held me up. When the task was done, they lowered me back to the bed and Mrs. Jones called for my father. He knelt by my bed and ran his hand over my hair.

"Can you hear me? Isabella, please answer me." He sounded tired. "We're going home now, my sweet angel."

Those words caused the first flutter in my body that I had felt in days. Edward called me his angel.

"Edward." His name left my lips, causing my father to gasp.

"Just hang on a little longer, sweetheart. We'll take you to him and then we'll find someone to help you."

Warmth spread from my chest and I felt a tingle in my stomach as my dad said he would take me to Edward. A small, involuntary smile settled on my lips at the thought of seeing him after all this time. My father hadn't missed my reaction.

"Oh sweetheart, such a pretty smile," he whispered into my ear as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Edward will be so happy and excited to see you, Isabella."

With a little effort, I smiled wider and gripped the picture frame lying against my chest.

"Really, Daddy." My voice was soft and hoarse from lack of use.

He chuckled. "Yes, sweetheart. If we leave now, you can be with him again by dusk."

The first real feeling I'd had in days passed through me as if I was waking up from a long slumber. I let go of the picture and slowly lifted my arm to place it on my father's shoulder in a vain attempt at a hug. He understood and moved closer, hugging me at the same time. He pulled away after a few seconds and slid his arms under me, preparing to lift me from my bed.

"Please, can I walk?" I asked weakly.

"I don't know if you have the strength, sweetheart," he answered.

"You can hold me." I smiled at him. "I want to try, please."

"Okay." He relented and stood up so he could help me out of bed.

He wrapped one arm around my waist while the other held my arm in front of him. The painful tingles hit my feet as I placed them on the ground. I welcomed the sensation now that it was among the first feelings to come to me since fainting in the middle of the kitchen. Once the pain subsided, I pushed to stand up on my rubber legs. I wobbled but he caught and steadied me.

"Are you alright, my sweet girl?"

I giggled weakly at this name. Edward called me that too.

My footing became steadier with each step and by the time we reached the front door, I was able to walk with only one of his hands supporting me. The bright sunshine hit my face as soon as the door was opened and I had to squint against it to keep from going blind. I stumbled a step but righted myself quickly, then made my way to the car.

My mother and Mrs. Jones sat in the car with a look of shock on their faces. I smiled at them and walked the rest of the way without fully needing the support. I was glad they were all there to help me through whatever this was that affected my body so cruelly in the past week. But as much as I loved and appreciated their help, there was only one person who I wanted to be with in this moment. Just his presence could take away all the pain and agony I'd felt and I couldn't wait to be near him so I could begin to feel normal again.

~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~

My eyes opened and closed so many times during our trip, making the ride feel like it took a week. But when the familiar neighborhood came into view, I was awake and ready to be home. I looked out the window as we passed my school and something didn't seem right. I looked toward the other side of the street to the houses standing there, and each one looked empty.

There were no kids playing anywhere, which was unusual for a Saturday evening. The weather was cooler than most would like, but that never stopped the kids from running around outside playing games. It was odd but I sat back in my seat and let the strange sight slip from my mind.

The only thing I wanted to focus on now was getting to Edward, finally seeing his face and the grin that was always there just for me. I could hardly wait to hold him again and I vowed to keep him with me until our wedding day. I giggled to myself, but Mrs. Jones heard me, of course.

"Miss Bella, you have seemed practically dead for six days and now you are all giggles and smiles. What is going through that head of yours?" she asked quietly.

"I'm getting married in seven days. I'm so excited I feel like screaming." I felt like bouncing but I knew my body wasn't quite up to that yet. "I will finally be Mrs. Edward Masen."

Everyone in the car laughed at my excitement. I was sure it was a welcomed change from the lifeless form I had been for the past several days. My exhilaration grew to new heights the second we turned onto our street and I could see his house.

I wondered if he would be waiting for me. Watching in the window for my return and running to me the second I was out of the car. Would he walk slowly to prolong our reunion or would he rush and pull me into his arms, swinging me around like we were children? I had been dreaming of this day for six weeks and no matter how he did it, I was going to be in Edward's arms in just a few short minutes.

The car pulled to a stop and I wanted to rush to get out, but I was still suffering from weakness and my movements were slow. My father asked Mrs. Jones to escort me to the Masen's house while he went to open ours. Those words were music to my ears and I held Mrs. Jones' hand as she helped me out of the car.

We were halfway to his front door and there was still no sign of him. He knew we were coming home today. I was sure we had both been counting the days until we saw each other again, but he was nowhere to be found. His house was dark, like no one was home, and I noticed their car was gone. I hoped its absence meant that his parents were out and he was inside alone, waiting for me.

We were only ten feet from his front door when I saw a paper stuck to the outside. It wasn't normal, maybe some kind of notification for them that they hadn't received yet since his parents seemed to be out. I cautiously made my way up the steps, hoping not to fall due to my still weak legs.

"Isabella, no!"

I heard the scream a half a second before my father ripped me away from the porch. Momentum carried us to the ground and when I sat up, I saw the two things that scared me beyond reason; tears streaking down my father's face and one word in huge dark letters on Edward's door.

CONDEMNED.


That last word says it all. All the excitement she had finally allowed herself to feel, destroyed with one word. Bella will be devastated. How will she cope?

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