Carlisle couldn't believe what he was seeing. It took him a moment to snap back to reality and then his senses returned to him.

Esme stared back him with guilty eyes.

"Come inside," he said, upon staring at her for several seconds with his jaw dropped.

She began to tow the bike, but Carlisle reached for it and allowed her to walk a few steps ahead of him. The two of them hurried up to the house as fast as they could in the thick of the snow and Carlisle shut the door behind them.

"Can I explain everything?" Esme asked, staring at her wide-eyed friend and doctor.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her and then simply nodded. "Of course... but you don't have to. You don't owe me any kind of explanation."

Esme shivered and looked around the hardwood floor. "I've made a mess," she said, glancing at the snow that sat in small patches all around them.

Carlisle didn't care about the snow. He rushed to get a thick, wool blanket and handed it to Esme. "Take this. Hold on." He hurried down the hall and returned with a set of his pajama pants and shirt. "You should go change. You're freezing."

"I need to explain," she protested.

"Change first... please. Your clothes are heavy and you're covered in snow. Get your body temperature up."

Esme nodded and took the clothes he'd brought out for her.

He motioned to a door, "The wash room is in there. Or you can change down the hall in my room. Whatever makes you the most comfortable."

"Thank you," she said with a shivering nod, and then quickly headed for the first door.

Carlisle sat down when the door closed and he put his hands on his head. A smile formed on his face and he laughed lightly to himself before settling back in his chair. The conflicting emotions were pulling him in all directions. The sadness he was experiencing just moments before was still lingering, but now it was being taken over by the extreme opposite. He felt elated and thankful and confused. The wide range of the two conflicting feelings was unnatural and rare. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel.

Thankful, he thought, I'm so happy and thankful Esme is alive.

His eyes drifted to the front of the newspaper with her picture on it. How could the reporters have gotten the story so wrong? How could they have led him and others to believe that Esme had perished?

Carlisle kicked off his shoes, and wandered down the hall to grab a new pair of socks before returning to his place in front of the fire. A few minutes passed before Esme returned, looking far more comfortable in the dry clothes.

"I'm not sure where to put my other clothes," she told him.

"Anywhere," he said.

"I placed them in the basket by the sink for now, if that's okay."

Carlisle nodded and stared at her. "Are you okay?"

Esme let out a deep sigh. "I had to do something to get myself out of the situation I was in."

He nodded again and motioned for her to come into the room by the fire.

Esme wrapped the wool blanket around her and sat in a rocking chair a few away. She sighed again from the warmth and then looked at him. "I came out this way on a whim," she explained, "I knew you lived by the falls, and as far as I could tell this was the only house within an eye shot of them." Esme looked down as she continued. "Yesterday I decided to follow through with a plan I had thought about for months. I'd thought of every scenario to get out of the hell I was living in every day. I knew standing up for myself would lead me down a painful road." She took a deep breath, "I contemplated taking my life. I even talked to my mother again on Monday, but she told me that sometimes you have to just put up with some things in a marriage."

Carlisle felt all of the emotions for Esme return, this time with even a higher degree. He felt part of her pain through her words; the sense of feeling trapped, abandoned and unloved. She deserved better; she deserved a life, and he didn't blame her one bit for whatever she had done to get out of the situation.

"Charles was drinking," she explained, "Unlike most nights, I was the one feeding him the alcohol and lots of it." Esme let out a deep exhale before continuing. "I didn't know if I could go through with it or not. I wasn't sure what my next step would be... but when he was extremely drunk he acted in his typical fashion, and this time I let him put his hands on me without much of a fight. My blood was on his hands; on his clothing... and then he passed out." She shook her head, "I left a trail of my blood out the back door and down toward a little creek that runs behind our house. I left my bloody clothing strung about; left the back door open." Esme looked Carlisle in the eye, "I'm a terrible person."

Carlisle was in shock - again. What a brilliant, elaborate plan of escape.

"Esme, I can't believe you constructed a plan to that extent," he admitted, causing her to look back down solemnly at the floor, "But I'm so glad you did it."

"If I'd had another choice-"

"You did what you had to do to survive," Carlisle told her, leaning forward in his chair. He didn't know what else to say. His words were true.

The thought of Esme contemplating suicide had him feel like his heart had been ripped out. She was right - there was no other alternative. Had she stayed with Charles he may have killed her, and her own family would have turned a blind eye.

Esme glanced over his shoulder at the paper on the table, and then resumed eye contact with him. "Do you think I'm a terrible person?"

Carlisle shook his head and his eyebrows pressed together. "No."

"An innocent man is in jail right now for my murder."

"Innocent?" he asked, "Esme, no man should ever put his hands on a woman - not his wife, not his sister, not his daughter..." Carlisle shook his head, "The injuries you sustained..." His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath, unable to finish his sentence. "I've never seen such injuries on a person that were caused by another."

"I didn't know where else to go," she confessed, "I wasn't even sure where you lived. I stole a bike from someone's yard in town and came out this way. I didn't know how bad the weather was supposed to get. I tried my best to look like anyone other than myself. That's why I had on the hat, and the hood. I figured I could pass for a male and no one would stop to check on me."

"Did anyone see you?"

Esme shook her head. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry if I'm putting you in a bad situation... I just... I trust you."

Carlisle's eyes softened more. "I'm glad you came."

Esme's eyes filled with tears. "What am I going to do?"

He sighed and looked down, and then stood up, crossing the room to comfort her.

Esme rose and hugged him, letting her tears fall again.

"We'll think of something," Carlisle whispered. "You're not alone."