A/N: *blushes* Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, and to those of you who are pimping my little plot bunny. I'm seriously speechless!
Sunflower3759 pwnd last chapter's reviews with this gem: "Wow, Edward is like a 'Wisperer'...he is the only one who can calm 'wisp' down. She needs to go home with him and the rest of the family. He did the right thing...I am going to call this Edward Wisperward..." Lol! My Edward has a nickname!
All standard disclaimers apply.
Wisp
Rosalie was in Edward's kitchen when he got home. He rolled his eyes slightly, not as surprised as he otherwise might be, as he shouldered the front door open, the savory smell of cooking wafting to him.
"Hi, honey, I'm home," he called mockingly, his arms full of a very sleepy Wisp.
Dr. Anderson confirmed that the residual sedative in her system would probably take a few days to completely wear off, particularly since her metabolism was so slow. He'd enthusiastically entrusted her medical care to Carlisle and Jasper, stating that the combined attention of a pediatrician and a surgeon couldn't be bad. They were to call at any time, day or night, if they needed help or referral to a specialist.
Scott had also given him a long list of things to either do or not do. In addition to getting approved as a foster home, Edward had to file weekly progress reports, and Scott insisted that they be as detailed as possible. What and when she ate, her sleep habits, moods, and any more words she might utter.
Edward had asked about the soundness of her knees, to which Dr. Anderson replied that they had not taken x-rays or attempted to diagnose her in any way. He offered to do it while they were still at the hospital, but Edward declined. He felt sure that either Carlisle or Jasper could do it back in Forks with minimal emotional trauma to little Wisp. His main goal was just to get her out of there as quickly as possible.
She had dozed throughout the drive back to Forks, her head usually pillowed against Edward's shoulder, her neck crooked at an angle that looked rather uncomfortable. But he refused to try to move her—not for the world. Not if it would cause her further fear or pain. She could lean on him as much as she wanted, as far as Edward was concerned.
Now she looked around his cabin again, blinking sleepily, her eyes taking in the small living room she'd last occupied two weeks ago. Edward watched her carefully, wishing he could know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Did she remember this place? Surely she must, because she remembered him. Was she glad to be back? He hoped so. Anything had to be better than wherever she came from, and also better than that damn hospital, where they had frightened her badly because they refused to question protocol and really listen to what she needed.
Rosalie leaned in the kitchen doorway, looking smug. "Hello to you, too," she said. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, her perfect eyebrows arched in amusement. "And you, little Wisp. Fancy seeing you again." She did not sound surprised in the least.
"Very funny." Edward paused in the room, wondering what his next move should be. He couldn't put the girl down on the couch, and he hated the thought of depositing her on the floor. But he still had an armful of official papers to bring in from the car, and he couldn't exactly stand here in the middle of the room holding her for the rest of the night.
"She looks tired," Rosalie observed. She righted herself, stepping over and peering at the girl cuddled against Edward's shoulder. Big brown eyes blinked slowly at her, thick with sleep.
"They had her fucking sedated," Edward growled, feeling the anger rising in his chest once again. "Thankfully a doctor agreed to give me a chance to care for her. A trial period only, supposedly, but I can't see them taking her away again if she does better here than she did in that hospital."
"Well, at least you didn't kidnap her, so Carlisle can't complain."
Edward grimaced. Realistically, there would have been absolutely no way to kidnap her from a place like that—she wasn't getting out without a doctor's approval. But he still wasn't looking forward to explaining to Carlisle or Emmett just what he'd done. They would understand eventually, but he was willing to bet his uncle would not be pleased that Edward had intervened.
"I couldn't leave her there, Rose," he said quietly. "You didn't see that place. I couldn't."
"I know." For once, there was no hint of sarcasm in Rosalie's voice. "You did good, Cullen."
Edward smiled softly, looking at the girl curled in his arms. She was watching Rosalie, though she looked neither frightened nor wary—just tired.
"Why don't you give her here?" Rose suggested, offering her arms. "There are some clothes in her closet—I'll get her changed into something that doesn't reek like a hospital, and we can see about dinner. I made chicken soup—I thought it would be something easy for her to eat."
Edward wasn't at all sure about leaving Wisp so soon after getting her back, but he shifted her toward Rosalie's waiting arms experimentally.
The experiment ended abruptly when little fingers clutched at his shoulders, a frightened whimper leaving her throat. She hugged him as tightly as she could, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.
"Okay," he soothed, redoubling his grip on her. "Okay, little Wisp. You've made your point. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
"I guess that takes care of that, then," Rose said. She flashed him a commiserating look. "Sorry, Ed. Is there something I can do down here while you get her changed?"
"Yeah—there's some papers in the back seat of my car. Would you grab them for me?" He rubbed Wisp's back with his thumb softly, then headed for the stairs. "Where's Emmett, by the way?"
"Working late, as usual. J—" She stopped herself just before saying that name. "His arraignment is tomorrow, and Emmett wants to make sure he doesn't fuck anything up."
Edward nodded. It had taken long enough. He wished the bastard would talk, but at least after tomorrow he'd be formally charged and they'd know he wasn't going anywhere. Surely a judge would deny a monster like James bail, right?
He carried the girl up the stairs and into the little guest room, which he hadn't entered since she'd been taken. Someone clearly had, though. The closet was open, and there were clothes hung in the dark little space. Upon inspection, there were also clothes folded in the drawers of the little dresser.
"Let's see if we can't get you more comfortable, huh?" Edward said, smiling reassuringly at the girl in his arms. She eyed him warily, as if afraid that he might try to leave her again. "It's okay," he tried to tell her. "I know you're afraid, but you don't have to be. Not anymore. If you want me to hold you for the whole next week, just to reassure you, I will."
She did not want to be put down but, as always, she did not resist. She did stumble on her hands and knees next to Edward, her shoulder pressing against his leg as he crossed to the dresser again and began to pull out soft clothes that looked like pajamas. He couldn't blame her for her fear, nor could he bring himself to try to stop her.
"I know," he said softly, instead. "I know. You don't trust that I'll stay. I'm sorry, little Wisp. I'll do my best to work on that trust."
She didn't answer, her eyes watching him carefully as he shook out a pair of incredibly soft purple fleece sleeping pants. They were definitely more her size than the man's pajamas he'd given her before.
"We'll have to thank Rosalie for thinking of all this," he said, grabbing a pair of underwear and a long-sleeved cream-colored shirt. "Maybe Esme, too. This doesn't look like the sort of clothes Alice would buy, though. They're far too functional."
Wisp was docile as he carefully removed her hospital scrubs, replacing them with the new clothes. She watched him with great attention, following every movement of his hands as he pulled her arms through the sleeves, carefully lowering the neck of the shirt over her head. Her brow knit together in a puzzled little frown once she was dressed, and she looked up at Edward in supplication.
"What?" he asked. "What do you need?"
She chewed on her swollen lower lip, glancing at the dresser, then at Edward.
"I wish I could read your mind," he told her, "but I can't. You have to give me some sort of clue, little one."
It took several minutes, but finally she extended her bare feet out to him, her face raised toward his in entreaty.
Edward exhaled a little laugh as her wish clicked in his mind. "How silly of me to forget," he said, rubbing one bare foot gently before returning to the dresser to find her some socks. "You remembered, though, didn't you? Don't believe anything that doctor said about you. You're smart, I just know it."
She hugged herself tightly once she was dressed again, and Edward saw the faint hint of a smile hover over her lips for an instant. He wanted to give her a bath, to wash away the scent and memory of the hospital, but she was tired. That could wait until tomorrow.
"I don't know how much you can understand me," he said, cupping her face carefully in his hands and gazing into her huge brown eyes, "but I'm going to take care of you now. Okay? You don't belong in that scary place, and I'll do my best to make sure you never have to go back there."
Her eyes gazed into his, liquid and deep. It was impossible to know how much she understood, but Edward had hope. She'd said his name, after all. It didn't mean she had complex language skills, but it did mean that she understood who he was, and could mimic the sound that other people associated with him. It was far more than he'd expected, and he felt something strange stirring in his chest when she gazed at him so openly, no facade between them. There was something so incredibly innocent and pure about her, despite what he knew she'd been through.
"Poor thing," he murmured. "You're so sweet. Whatever he did to you, little Wisp, you didn't deserve it. None of it."
Rosalie had dished up mugs of chicken noodle soup and put them on the coffee table when Edward carried Wisp back downstairs. There were cushions on the floor for all three of them, and Edward flashed her a grateful look as he carefully settled Wisp on one.
"I thought it was too soon to start working on that furniture fear," Rose said, stirring soup with a spoon. "Easier to just make her comfortable tonight."
"Thank you," Edward said, watching as Wisp sat obediently on her cushion, her attention caught by the wide soup mug before her. She did not reach out to touch, but she sniffed the air in a way Edward remembered well.
"Let's see if you can hold the mug and drink," Edward said. "We won't worry about a spoon tonight." He offered her the mug, which she took carefully in her two hands. She held it to her nose and breathed in deeply, watching Edward worriedly over the rim. He picked up his own mug and took a sip of broth, hoping she would understand that it was okay to eat.
Rose had only filled Wisp's mug about halfway, in accordance with Carlisle's warning about small meals. Dr. Anderson had concurred, saying it was better to be safe than sorry if they planned to feed her without a tube. Small, frequent meals would be the key to helping her digestive system learn to function again.
Wisp mimicked him, sucking in a small mouthful of soup. Her eyes closed reflexively, as if in pure pleasure, and she swallowed thickly.
"Now that's the kind of response any cook wants," Rosalie said, grinning.
Edward continued to watch his new ward as he ate his own meal. Rose's soup was very simple—good for the girl's delicate stomach. The broth was thin, and there were chunks of white chicken, rounds of carrot, slices of celery, and some curly noodles. That was it. There were some herbs flavoring the soup, but little to no salt, which would be hard on Wisp's stomach. She seemed to love it, finishing her mug quickly.
"The rest is in the refrigerator," Rosalie told Edward as she picked up the empty dishes. "Esme also made a chicken and dumpling casserole; it's in the freezer."
So Esme was in on it. Edward had suspected so.
"Do you need anything else?" Rose asked. She rubbed her palms on the thighs of her jeans. "I should probably be heading back to Emmett soon."
"Thank you," Edward said, not knowing when he'd ever felt those words so strongly. "For everything."
"No problem," Rose said. She smiled at Wisp, who was yawning and drooping a little over the table. "We were all worried, you know, not just you."
Yes, Edward knew. But no one else had been worried enough to do anything about it...or, perhaps, they all just assumed he would? He shrugged off the question. It didn't really matter anymore. Wisp was here again, and he planned to keep her for as long as she needed him. Someday he hoped to be able to return her to her family, but that wouldn't be possible until they learned just who she was. And who knew how long that would take if James refused to talk?
She was nearly asleep, but she used the toilet and submitted to tooth brushing without a fight—not that Edward expected one from her. He inspected the angry red scratch marks on her smooth skin, but she hadn't broken the surface. They would heal in time.
"Now," he said, "here's the question. Do we try putting you to bed?"
She yawned and tucked herself against him, which wasn't terribly helpful. Edward chuckled and picked her up, letting her nestle in his arms as he carried her up to the guest room. In truth, he didn't want to let her out of his sight. But Dr. Lawton's angry accusations about his intentions toward the girl echoed in his head and he didn't feel right, under the circumstances, trying to stay with her while she slept. Helping her change and bathe was one thing—it was necessary at the moment, until she learned to do these things for herself. But lingering while she slept was something else entirely.
"Okay," he said slowly. "I'm still not sure what's best to do, little one, but I guess we'll just have to wing it."
She didn't protest as he lowered himself to the bed, sitting on the soft mattress and holding her in his lap. Her body was warm against his, pliable and sweet. Her hair was limp and she still smelled like the hospital, but that could be fixed tomorrow. After she got some much-needed sleep.
"Never again," he told her quietly, his hand rubbing slowly up and down her back. "No one's ever going to drug you to keep you quiet for days again. No one's going to shove a tube down your throat. No one will hit you, or whatever else James did that made you hurt."
Her eyes slid closed, one hand fisted in the material of his shirt. "Ed...ward," she mumbled, and it was impossible to tell whether she was asleep or awake when the word slipped from her lips.
His heart raced faster, just as it had the first time she uttered his name. "Yes," he told her, hugging her close. "I'm Edward, sweet girl, and I'm going to take care of you."
Her mouth moved slightly, but no noise emerged. She was well and truly asleep.
Edward shifted her carefully in his arms, laying her in the little daybed and tucking her under the soft blankets. He doubted that she would stay there for the whole night, but that was no reason not to let her sleep in comfort for at least a little while. There was nothing holding her down so, once she woke, she could slip out of bed if she so wished.
"Sleep," Edward said, trailing his fingers over her cheek. "You've been so brave. Rest now."
A soft, pitiful cry roused Edward from his sleep, and he fumbled for the light next to his bed. Squinting at the glowing numbers on his alarm clock, he saw that it was barely two in the morning.
The sound came again, and Edward stumbled out of bed, heading for the room across the hall. Though his mind was fuzzy with sleep, he knew what that sound meant. Wisp was awake, and she was crying. This was something he was powerless to ignore, even had he wanted to. The quiet, hopeless sound made his heart hurt. She was so afraid of everything, and he felt a deep-seated need to quell that fear as much as he could, to soothe whatever inside her hurt. No one whole could possibly make a sound like that, he was positive.
The light from his room illuminated the hallway fitfully, and Edward nearly stumbled over her huddled form, curled just outside the door to his bedroom. Her head was bent, her knees raised to her chest as she rocked hesitantly, not quite daring to slip inside his room. Edward let out a long breath, guilt welling up inside him, along with no small amount of frustration. He had done this, had created her desperate fear of being abandoned, because he'd done just that—abandoned her when she desperately needed him. In time, he hoped she would learn that she didn't have to be afraid anymore, but that didn't help either of them in this moment.
"Oh, honey," he said quietly. The thick, listening silence of two a.m. closed in around them as Edward knelt next to her quivering body. "I'm right here. Wisp, little one, I'm here. You're not alone. Not abandoned. You're fine, pretty girl. You're fine."
She latched onto him when he knelt and offered her his arms. The salty-sweet smell of tears was strong, and Edward brushed her wet cheeks with the hem of his long sleeve before picking her up in his arms. She shuddered and heaved a huge, relieved sigh into the curve of his neck, her arms winding around his shoulders and holding him fiercely. Edward swayed slightly, trying to soothe her with whispered words, his sleep-muddled mind clawing for a way to fix this now. She needed his presence in order to feel secure right now, and he couldn't fault her for that. Not after he'd abandoned her, however unwillingly. But Dr. Lawton's accusations hovered close in his memory, taunting him. No matter how much he wanted to just tuck her close against his chest and let her sleep right there, he didn't think it was a good idea. Not if people were going to accuse him of sexual misconduct with a girl who might be a minor, a girl who, for all intents and purposes, could not legally consent to anything.
Her soft breaths shuddered against his throat, and Edward felt the wet touch of tears that told him she was not done crying yet. Hope that she would fall quickly back to sleep fled, as it became clear that she equated sleep with him leaving her alone. Like the most determined preschooler, she wasn't succumbing to sleep if she could help it.
Edward took a deep breath, preparing himself for what might be a very long night. He didn't blame her at all—he'd done this, and it was his job now to soothe the fear he'd instilled in her. She thought he would disappear if she went to sleep, and Edward's own actions had caused that panic.
"Well," he said softly, his voice oddly hollow in the nighttime silence, "if you're not going to sleep, would you like a bath?"
He had an ulterior motive, yes, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Her body desperately needed sleep to heal itself, and he was going to try every soothing thing he could think of to get her back to sleep. A hot bath was also something he knew she loved, and he hoped it would help cheer her up.
She made an excited noise when he brought her into the bathroom and started the water, and Edward couldn't help but smile at her as he settled her on the countertop. "Soon enough we'll start working on your autonomy," he said, carefully pulling her shirt off of her body, "but for tonight, let's just leave well enough alone, shall we?"
Once unclothed, she was eager for the water. She settled happily into the filling tub once Edward set her in it, her tear tracks nearly dry on her pale cheeks. She smiled up at him, and the gratitude on her face took his breath away. It floored him every time something so small, so simple, got such a big reaction. He shuddered to think what her life must have been like before he found her in the back of James' truck. To be so grateful for a bath, and companionship...it blew his mind.
Edward wasn't at all surprised to find some fruit-scented body wash and shampoo in the cabinet under the sink, but he did chuckle a little when he saw the pink bottle of bubble bath sitting innocuously in the corner. He glanced over his shoulder at Wisp, who was holding her wet hand close to her face and examining her fingers, then brought the bottle with him. He poured a little bit into the stream of running water, a soft scent wafting up around them.
Wisp's eyes grew huge and she gasped softly as the foamy white hill of bubbles began to build. Edward dipped up a handful and held it out to her, dabbing the bubbles gently against her wet hand. She jerked away, then poked the handful of silvery foam cautiously with one fingertip.
"It's not scary," Edward said, smiling as she brought a small amount up toward her narrowed eyes. "It's fun—I guess. I haven't had a bubble bath since I was maybe five years old, but I hear girls like them." Actually, that wasn't quite true. He'd sat in bubble baths with Tanya more than once, but in that instance it definitely wasn't the bubbles that he considered fun.
Her caution slowly melted away, replaced by a kind of awed fascination. Edward hid a yawn behind his hand, enthralled with watching her. Everything they introduced her to was practically new to her, like she'd never experienced it before. It was beyond interesting, both to the human heart within him that she'd touched, and to the mind of a practicing social scientist.
But, while the bath did soothe her tears and cheer her up, it was not lulling her to sleep. Edward was perfectly happy to try other remedies—warm tea, soft music—but he didn't know if any of it would really work, especially if she realized what he was trying to do. He could really use another opinion right now, but he didn't know whether it was worth waking up someone else in the middle of the night. Rosalie had said he could call if he needed anything. Really, he would prefer Esme's advice, but calling Esme meant calling Carlisle and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Alice would be happy to help, but he was trying to get the girl to sleep, not keep her up indefinitely.
Which left Rosalie.
Emmett slept like the dead, so calling Rose might or might not wake him up. Edward wasn't too worried either way—he didn't really think Emmett would blame him for pressuring Scott to give Wisp back. He probably would be sore that Edward hadn't shared his plan beforehand, but Emmett never stayed mad for long.
Edward looked cautiously at Wisp. She was playing quietly with the bubbles, making shapes by molding and scooping the foam into mounds. He suspected that she'd be upset when he left to get the phone, but it would only be for a moment.
Sure enough, a sharp, startled cry rang out from the bathroom as he slipped into the kitchen to grab the house phone. He hurried back, unsurprised to see her kneeling in the tub, her hands clenched tightly on the edge, her brown eyes wide and worried as she stared toward the door.
"I'm here," he said quietly, touching her pale cheek. "You're fine. I promise, I'm not going to abandon you again."
She narrowed her eyes, watching him suspiciously as he sat down on the bathmat next to the tub. Only after he settled into place did she follow suit, sitting back in the water, Edward touched her hand, rubbing the warm, wet skin as he punched in Rosalie's cell number with his other hand.
She answered on the fourth ring, which was sooner than he expected.
"It's nothing, Em," she said, her voice muffled. "Go back to sleep." The static sound of movement crackled across the line, and then Edward heard her release a long breath. "What's up?"
"She won't sleep," Edward said bluntly. There was no point in beating around the bush with Rose.
Rosalie snorted. "You sound like a father with a newborn."
"Not funny." Edward watched Wisp carefully, but she was ignoring him entirely, as if he wasn't even talking. "She woke up crying, and she won't let go. She's afraid of going to sleep, I know she is, because that's when I leave her."
"So don't leave her."
Edward made a face. This was why he wanted Esme's advice, not Rosalie's. "It's not that simple! I'm a dude—I can't just bring her to bed with me like she's a teddy bear. You heard what Dr. Lawton said."
"Fuck Lawton and the horse she rode in on," Rosalie said flatly. "You know you're not a predator. I know you're not a predator. Wisp won't sleep unless you're there. What part of this isn't making sense to you?"
Edward raised his free hand to pull at his sleep-tousled hair. "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one she accused of molesting—"
"Yeah, I was there, I heard what she said," Rose said, cutting him off. "Look, Edward. You're a good guy. The fact that you're even worried about this proves it. If she needs a teddy bear for a while, then channel your inner Elvis and be her teddy bear. Who knows? You might actually get her to sleep on a bed for a while without freaking out."
"But I'm supposed to be documenting everything for the state," Edward argued. "I don't think Scott would like it very much if—"
"Do you know why I keep interrupting you, Edward?" Rosalie interrupted again. "Because what you're saying is stupid. Is it normal? No, of course not, but what part of your current situation is? If you must document, then explain in said document that she won't sleep without you. Make it clear that you will be working on her dependency issues—weaning her, as it were, but gently. Not cruelly, like they tried to do. I can't promise they'll listen, but what other choice do you have? A lot of sleepless nights and a girl who panics every time she feels tired. Not a recipe for success, if you ask me."
And, of course, Rose was right. She was often right, and just as often smug about it, which made it ten times worse. Edward sighed and tugged on his hair again. "Okay," he said. "Okay." Wisp needed to sleep. She needed to flush the residual sedative out of her system, and her body needed to rest and heal. That wouldn't happen if she worked herself into a panic attack every time she felt sleepy. Rosalie was right—he only had two choices, realistically. Well, three. A doctor would probably suggest medication to make her sleep—not something as severe as the sedative she'd been given at the hospital, but Edward was done feeding her any medication she didn't vitally need. That awful vision of her in the hospital, bound and screaming, was seared into his memory. No more. Not if he could help it.
So he had one option. Edward ended the call and put the phone aside, letting out the cooling water and getting a towel for Wisp. She watched the last of the bubbles swirl down the drain with a sad little sigh, but she didn't protest when he dried and dressed her again. Her hair still smelled like the hospital, since they hadn't washed it, but her skin now smelled like pink bubble bath. It was a childish scent, and only reinforced how absolutely wrong it would be to even think about doing what Dr. Lawton had suggested. Rosalie was right—she was a baby in this world. No matter her chronological age, taking advantage of her would be sick and wrong.
"You know," Edward said, offering her a cup of water, "she's irritating as hell, but Rosalie Hale is one smart woman."
Wisp drank thirstily, then came willingly into his arms as he lifted her again.
"We're going to try something new," Edward told her. "I hope it will help you feel better. You need to understand that you're safe even when you can't see me, but I know that's difficult right now." He carried her into his room, still bathed in dim light from his bedside lamp. "This isn't permanent," he warned her, sitting carefully on the bed. "It's just until you're comfortable in your own bed."
Her big, dark eyes watched him calmly. Sitting on his lap clearly did not bother her, regardless of his location.
"I'd love if we could figure this out," he murmured, scooting toward the middle of the bed, "because sleeping on the floor really isn't appealing to me, you know? Beds are much more comfortable."
Worry lit in her eyes as he began to lower himself into a reclining position, turning slightly at the same time so she was pillowed partially on the bed and partially on his chest. Her breathing picked up, and she began to chew violently on her lower lip again. He felt her warm body tense in his arms and she struggled against him, pulling fretfully toward the edge of the bed.
"Shh," he soothed, pulling her further on top of his body. Her little weight was negligible to him, and she calmed somewhat once most of her body was no longer in contact with the mattress. "Clearly this is going to take a while."
He held her for quite some time as she lay awkwardly on top of his body, tense and unsure. His hands rubbed her shoulders, stroked her hair, and ran down her back, trying to soothe her. Slowly she calmed, resting her head on his chest and relaxing minutely. Edward wasn't at all sure that she had actually accepted her new position—he suspected that she was just too tired to fight him anymore. After another few minutes her breathing evened out, her body melting sweetly against his.
Edward gazed blearily at the clock by his bed. Three-thirty in the morning. He hoped she didn't kick in her sleep. With her on his chest he couldn't reach the lamp to turn it off, so with a slight shrug he closed his eyes, one hand holding her hip, the other woven in the dark strands of her soft hair.
A/N: One or two people have asked whether Wisp/Bella will ever be able to have a healthy romantic relationship, either with Edward or with anyone else. It's a wonderful question, and the answer is that I honestly don't know. I purposely didn't include "romance" as one of the genres because I wasn't sure how that was going to play out, and I'm still not sure. If this was RL, I'd say there's about a snowball's chance in hell, to be honest. Since it's fiction, I'm not willing to count her out just yet. :) HOWEVER, while I'm happy to play around the edges of squickiness, there won't be any lemony-type material while she's obviously unable to really consent. If you want that sort of story, it's called Daddy's Girl by Jessee03. I won't comment on the relative quality of the writing, only that I can't condone the characters' actions towards that Bella.
Mwah! Loves you, duckies!