Previously

Peter POV

"Bella," Lottie gasped, horrified. In a flash I had taken off, following the sound of her voice.

I could hear Bella quarreling with what must have been just one man. But Bella, little Bella, was no match for a full-grown man.

I had nearly reached the place at which they were, when I heard the whistle of blade and Bella's scream.

Peter POV

I whipped around the corner, my vampire reflexes keeping me balanced as I moved faster than any car ever could.

"Bella!" I yelled, horror-struck at the scene before me. Bella, her tiny physique crumpled in a pile on the ground, was coated in the blood that was pooling about her.

"Get lost man I got'er first," the drunk over her slurred.

I roared furiously, launching myself clear over Bella, ripping him away from her. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground as I crushed his neck.

"Sick bastard," I hissed venomously. I couldn't hold back my anger, my foot connecting hard with his side, though I knew he was already dead. His ribs crunched sickeningly. I wished sorely that he was still alive so he could feel the pain I wanted to cause him.

"Peter," Lottie's voice broke through my fury, calling my attention back to the little girl, now cradled in her arms. Lottie held a bag, a tub of ice cream and a box of strawberries, being pulverized in here hand. "She was going to the market, Peter," Lottie sobbed softly, rocking Bella's limp form in her lap.

My fingers moved, fast as lightening, checking under Bella's jaw for a pulse. It was there, but it was slow, weak. She was fading fast.

"Lottie call 911," I ordered her quickly, laying Bella as flat as I could on the ground. I pulled my cotton t-shirt off, pressing it hard against the wound, penetrating deeply into her chest.

"Bella," I called loudly, drowning out the sound of Lottie on the phone with the police. "Bella, honey, can you hear me? Bella… It's Peter and Charlotte. Hold on sweetie, Lottie's calling for help."

A soft, barely audible groan blew from her mouth.

"Bella, honey, you need to wake up," I told her firmly, holding onto one of her hands, my other hand keeping pressure on the gash.

From the placing of the gaping wound I could tell she was suffocating. Her lungs were filling with hot blood; I could hear her breathing become thinner, shallower. She coughed once, her petite figure jerking maniacally. Thick red blood splattered from her mouth, dribbling down her chin.

With feathery fingers Lottie brushed the blood from her face. Her thumb smoothed the creases from her forehead, the wisps of hair from her face.

The screeching of tires was clearly audible, even in the hustle and bustle of the Phoenix nightlife. The wailing of sirens accompanied it.

"Hey!" I shouted, calling their attention to where we were, splayed across the ground.

An EMT's came running over, a black kit in his hands.

"Sir, Ma'am, please take a step back," he directed with a calm authority.

Immediately I gathered Lottie into my arms, lifting her lightly from the ground, giving the EMT room to work.

"Shh, shh," I whispered into Lottie's thick curls. "She's gonna be okay."

There was a series of soft clicks as two EMTs popped up the gurney. "Sir would you or your wife like to ride in the ambulance?"

"If there is any space, we'd both like to go," I said quietly.

"One of you will have to ride up front but we can squeeze you both in," he replied. "We have to hurry though. She's loosing blood fast."

It was all I could do to make sure Lottie didn't move inhumanly quickly to the back door of the ambulance. I jumped up into the front, letting the EMT climb in behind me. A woman EMT was behind the wheel, her brown hair twisted up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck.

She didn't even acknowledge me as she flicked the siren on again, her foot pressing down on the gas at the same moment. She started off slowly, driving me a step closer to insanity with every passing second. But after a few moments we were flying down the streets. Cars around us parted like the Red Sea, leaving our path unobstructed.

"Sir do you know the girl?" the man asked me, a clipboard in his hand.

I nodded. "Her name is Bella Swan. She's eight."

"Are you her father?" he continued, his hand moving speedily over the paper.

"No, my wife and I taught are teaching a safety seminar at her elementary school. We met her there," I informed him, trying to concentrate on the sounds in the back of the ambulance.

"Keep pressure here," a man ordered. "Give me the pump, we have to try to empty out her lungs."

A loud, gurgling slurping made me shudder.

"We're losing her! Hurry, pass me… yeah… twenty milligrams of morphine," the voice urged.

Charlotte's sobs were clearly audible, maybe even to the humans.

"We have two OR doctors standing ready," the man next to me said, clicking a phone back to the dashboard. "The OR is prepped and there are five ready to scrub in."

"We're here," the woman driving barked, easing to stop with speed and precision.

"Sir, Ma'am, please go with the Pat," the EMT told Lottie and I, gesturing to a lady wearing scrubs. "She will take you to the waiting room. The doctor will come to you when they're done."

We sat for what seemed was probably hours, Lottie cradled in my arms.

"Peter, Charlotte?" a familiar, warm voice gasped.

"Gabriel? What are you doing here?" I asked, shocked. Gabriel, having become a doctor shortly after spending time traveling with our close friend Carlisle Cullen, was gliding towards us, Bella's blood staining all down his front.

"I was in the hospital to do a nuero-transplant," he explained, halting in front of us as I helped Lottie gently to her feet. She leaned against me, her arms wrapped in a bone-crushing hug around my ribs. "I was still here when I heard about Bella. I stepped up for the surgery."

"How is she?" Lottie asked, sounding quiet, almost as if she were afraid to know the answer.

"Lottie, Peter," Gabriel sighed, pulling the cap off his head, his deep, chocolate brown hair sweeping from under it. "I'm sorry." His face was sullen, grave. "She had lost so much blood by the time she got here. We stopped the bleeding and we managed to drain the blood from her lung and stitch it up but she's so small. She's in the ICU for now. She's too unstable for my liking but she made it through so far. We should be able to tell more later this evening. Her parents?"

"We tried contacting Renee," my voice shook with surpressed fury. "She told me to hang on a moment and she hung up. Even after I told her Bella was injured. She just hung up. She was laughing, Gabriel! She laughed!"

"Her father?"

"Charlie, he's a mess," Lottie breathed sadly. "When their son died he threw himself into his work. Bella hasn't spoken to him since the funeral."

"Why don't you come to my office and we can discuss this predicament we're in, shall we?" Gabriel sighed again, looking grave.

One Day Later

Emmett POV

I sat with Rose, my arms around her waist, my nose buried in her golden curls. She held the charcoal grey remote in her hand, flipping through channel after channel, a bored look on her face.

I kissed the hollow behind her ear, making her squeal. "Emmett I'm trying to find something good to watch," she laughed, swatting at me. Her topaz eyes sparkled with cheer, making me smile.

I nodded mutely, laying back against the couch.

Rose returned her attention to the flat screen, the channel changing rapidly. Carlisle had a DVR, with over nine thousand channels, and nothing Rose wanted to watch.

"…Phoenix, eight year old Bella…" a flash of voice from the news made me sit bolt up right in my seat, my gold eyes wide with terror. Bella would have turned eight just a little while ago.

"Rose turn the channel back," I ordered hurriedly, leaning forward anxiously.

Alice and Edward looked up from their chess game on the floor in front of us, staring wildly at the t.v., obviously having caught the little clip in the news.

Rose's manicured nail pressed the rewind button, playing it from the beginning of the report.

A lady in a navy blazer, holding a silver microphone, spoke quickly, standing in front of a Pheonix, Arizona hospital. "Last night here in Pheonix, eight year old Isabella Swan was rushed to the hospital after being stabbed in the chest by an unknown assailant," she said without feeling.

"Bella," the name slipped from Edward's mouth. He rocked back on the ground, looking crushed, as if all the breath had been knocked out of him, leaving him dying.

"Oh God," I couldn't help myself. I wanted to bury my face in my hands, to shut out the impossible news. My baby Bella, my little girl, the tiny baby I had nursed so carefully, the little girl I had raised to never be afraid of the dark, was stabbed.

"Young Isabella was rushed to the OR where she made it to recovery in a very unstable state. She passed in her sleep just hours ago, in the ICU here at the Phoenix Memorial."

So, I know I promised an update by the 26, and I'm sorry it's a day late.

Anyway, this may end up being the New Years update, it all depends on how things go for me.

Love,

Sea